Born Through Resistance
by Belle P
Summary: Life for Harry Potter reaches an all-time low when his name is spat from the Goblet of Fire . what's he to do what with jealous friends, old manipulators , a deadly tournament , new love ... and a whisper of death and war ? read and find out as Harry and his friends try to survive in a world being torn apart by both light and dark . is there a difference anymore ?
1. The Goblet's Kickstart

_**A/N:**_

_**I own absolutely NOTHING of the Potterverse or anything to do with Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling, etc. This one disclaimer applies to the ENTIRE fic as I do not feel like writing it every chapter. Enjoy.**_

_**I would like to give credit where credit is due to Eristarisis for allowing me to use their story Years at War as a basis for my own fic. Things will be quite similar to their story, and even taken directly from it, it's deliberate and I have permission. I recommend going to read their fic, it's quite good, and I enjoyed it myself.**_

_**Born Through Resistance**_

_**Chapter One**_

_**The Goblet's Kickstart**_

"_**There are two primary choices in life: to accept conditions as they exist, or accept the responsibility for changing them.**__**" Denis Waitley**_

"I don't believe this! Ron, you've been my best friend for three years, you know I hate the fame and attention, what would I need more for? I thought you of all people would believe me. I didn't put my name in that Goblet!" Harry shouted, feeling his anger spike dangerously.

Luckily, Dean, Seamus, and Neville were in the common room with the other Gryffindors _'celebrating'_ having one of their own as a Triwizard Champion. Not that Harry thought this was anything to be happy about. Especially considering the effect it was having on everyone else in the castle, including the other schools and the Professors.

"Sure Harry," Ron said, his voice thick with sarcasm, "yet you admitted just this morning that if you wanted to, you could've entered your name last night and no one would've seen you. And then the next day – surprise, surprise – your name gets shot from the Goblet. I'm not as stupid as you might think."

"Yeah? Well, you're not exactly showing proof of that!" Harry snapped.

"Oh, really? Well, that's fine. You should go to bed Harry, wouldn't want dark circles in case you get called in for a photo shoot or something." Ron shot back, firmly and pointedly shutting the curtains around his bed, leaving Harry standing in the middle of the room, fuming.

Ron had been one of the very few people Harry had truly thought would believe him, but he wouldn't let him have the satisfaction of seeing or hearing how much his accusations actually hurt. "Ron, you've been by my side for three years! I thought our friendship was built on more than just convenience, but I guess not. I'm not going to waste my time trying to convince you of something you obviously don't want to believe, I'll need that time to figure out how to survive something I never wanted." Harry spoke softly, but he knew without a doubt that Ron had heard everything he'd said.

And with those final words, Harry crawled into his own bed, shut the curtains around it, and lied back on his pillows. He stared up at the canopy of his bed, wondering whether he was ever going to get his wish of being a normal teenager, and having a normal year at Hogwarts. As he pondered, the images of the feast less than an hour ago flooded his minds' eye.

After his name had come out of the Goblet, it had taken Hermione to not only stomp on his foot, but also pinch his leg and then forcibly pull him out of his chair and push him forward to get him going. He wasn't surprised that every single student –Hogwarts, Beauxbaton, and Durmstrang—had their eyes fixated on him as he walked up to the Head Table. Their expressions filled with a mix of surprise, disbelief, hatred, and anger in varying levels.

The face that had hurt the most was without a doubt the look of utter envy, jealousy, and hatred in the eyes of Ron, who had been sitting next to him. The following meeting having ended without a satisfactory result, along with Fleur rudely calling him a little boy, the school once again hating him, and his best mate calling him an attention seeking liar, and Harry really wondered whether it was too late to catch a train back to the muggle world.

However, the only consolations in this whole situation were the slightly encouraging faces of people that had always had his best interest at heart: Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and the Twins. Hermione had been with him from the very beginning back in first year, and it didn't escape Harry's notice that if they hadn't saved her life –which Ron put in danger in the first place—they likely would've never become best friends.

Neville had always been a quiet presence in the background, never really truly there but always there, if that made any sense. And while Harry felt immensely bad about practically abandoning the shy boy, he knew he had an opportunity to fix that, especially now that he was one of the only people that supported Harry for simply being Harry, not the Boy-With-Way-Too-Many-Hyphenated-Nicknames.

The Weasleys in general had always been family to Harry, since that first meeting when they helped him onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, however Harry had really only had constant contact with Ron, Ginny, the Twins, and Percy, though that last one wasn't very often either. Having Ron not believe him hurt, but knowing that Ginny and the Twins did made it tolerable, bearable even. Besides, Harry figured with someone constantly out to kill him, he didn't need friends like Ron anyway.

The next morning, a Sunday, began with Harry continuing his daily morning run, something he had begun the previous summer. Not only as a way to stay in shape for Quidditch season, stay on his toes and away from Dudley and his gang with their game of '_Harry Hunting_', and having something to do, the workout proved to be helpful in many different ways.

After running around the Black Lake for more than an hour, Harry returned to find the common room and his dorm completely empty, and so he finally had time to be by himself, something he dearly needed after the constant stares, pointed fingers, and general whispers that following him everywhere he went.

After showering, Harry had dressed and entered the common room, breathing a sigh of relief that he didn't have to confront someone on his way out. Exiting through the portrait hole, Harry started down the corridor, and turned around a corner, only to come barely an inch from colliding with Hermione, and sending the stack of toast and flask of coffee to the floor. Luckily, they had both stopped in time and she smiled up at him; Harry instantly felt his heart warm.

"Oh good morning, I was just looking for you." Hermione said with a smile, she held up the stack of toast and the flask, "I figured you wouldn't want everyone staring and pointing in the Great Hall. You want to go eat out by the lake?" Harry nodded, and they walked down through the Entrance Hall, out the huge double doors, and across the grounds.

They had settled against the trunk of a tree and were silently munching on their toast, and sharing the flask of coffee, when Harry decided to tell Hermione every single thing that had happened since his name had gotten pulled from the Goblet. To his immense relief, Hermione believed his story without question.

"Harry, I've been your best friend for over three years, of course I knew you hadn't entered yourself!" Hermione exclaimed after he had admitted that he'd thought she wouldn't believe him. "One look at your face after your name was called and I knew instantly. You looked terrified, but not very surprised either." She gave him a curious look.

"The way my life, and every year at Hogwarts goes, it wasn't that much of leap when a dangerous contest that can kill you is involved. I wasn't surprised because I had hoped for a normal year, but had expected _something_ to be around to kill me…again. Only this time, it's not possessed teachers, three-headed dogs, a basilisk, or a hundred Dementors…it's a bloody tournament!" Harry ranted, unknowingly squishing his last piece of toast in a tight angry fist.

"Have you seen Ron this morning?" Harry asked suddenly. As much as he just wanted to completely write Ron off, he couldn't just throw away three solid years of friendship. Hermione hesitated, but nodded. "And?" Harry prompted. She knew what he wasn't asking.

"He…he's been ranting to anyone who'll listen about how _'the Great Harry Potter'_ can do whatever he pleases because of a stupid scar. He keeps saying that you did this just to get attention and fame. I…tried to talk to him, but he completely blew me off." Hermione said softly. Harry showed no reaction.

"And what about the other Houses? What do they think?" Harry asked.

"The Hufflepuffs are adamant that you stole their one shot at finally getting some recognition and glory, they all hate you. Cho is now Cedric's girlfriend, and therefore turned Ravenclaw house against Gryffindor, but you specifically. And Slytherin…well Slytherin would rather Cedric, a Hufflepuff, win rather than Harry Potter." Hermione recited. "However, nearly all of Gryffindor House will stand with you."

Harry snorted. "They don't stand with me, Harry Potter; They stand with the Hogwarts Champion, the Boy-Who-Lived…" He corrected. Hermione grabbed his hand and waited until he looked at her.

"I, Harry, I stand with you, Harry Potter the person, not the savior." She said determinedly. Harry saw that evil glint in her eyes, and knew that whatever it was, it was going to be immensely helpful. "I've already drawn up training schedules and researched what spells could be useful in the Tournament…"

Harry just stared at her in amazement and wondered what he'd ever done to deserve such an amazing friendship. He squeezed her hand, and she smiled at him, understanding everything words couldn't express. Just seeing Harry so relieved and happy made her happy as well. She had once harbored thoughts of them being something more than friends, but in this moment, she knew that things just clicked into place, and they were perfect as they were, best friends, brother and sister.

Harry's smile faded and he sighed, leaning back against the trunk. "I...I have to explain something." He had Hermione's full attention. "Last night, after all of our names were called and we were taken into that room off to the side, the adults all agreed that I was being setup, and not for something pleasant." Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. Rarely anything that happened to Harry was very pleasant.

"They all made observations and guesses, but none of them cared about what I had to say! None of them listened to me because they think I'm just a _little boy._" Hermione flinched slightly at the venom in Harry's tone as he said those last two words. "Apparently, I'm old enough to save the whole bloody world, but I'm not old enough to have a say in a life or death situation that involves me." Harry snapped.

"Every single adult that was supposed to be here to protect me, to care for me…all of them have failed or never tried in the first place. I'm on my own Hermione, I've always been alone." Harry rolled his eyes, and Hermione gently rubbed his hand soothingly, "I'll give you one guess as to who's causing the trouble this year." But Hermione didn't need to guess: Voldemort.

"That…thing never quits, does he?" Hermione asked tiredly, not willing to call Voldemort a man. Harry snorted and shook his head.

"Of course not." He replied.

"Harry…you said you're alone. …You've been alone in the past, I know, you've told me… however reluctantly." She added at his amused look. "But you don't have to be alone anymore, you have me, and I'm sure I'm not the only one." She finished. Harry thought back to those very few faces he had seen in the Great Hall and thought –maybe, just maybe—Hermione could be right.

"I know Hermione, and I truly appreciate you, you have no idea how much I do. But, I need more than just spells. I want a way out of this tournament. I want to actually survive the school year without having to fight for my, or someone else's, life." Harry whispered. It hurt Hermione to hear the pain and loneliness in his voice.

"I…have an idea…kind of." Hermione said suddenly, her eyes lighting up. Harry figured she had gone for the most obvious choice.

"I'm not going to Dumbledore Hermione, he's a big part of the problem." Harry stated bluntly. She looked slightly taken aback, but shook her head.

"I wasn't talking about Dumbledore…I think you need to go to Gringotts." Hermione said. Harry looked confused. Gringotts? How could a bank help? And then the light bulb flicked on in his head, and his eyes widened.

"The Goblins?" Hermione nodded.

"The Goblins have never had much love or respect for the Ministry, and vice versa, and I think they'd help you just to spite the Ministry. Plus, they know who you are, and how famous you are, and also they know a boat load about Wizarding Laws and such. I think it's our best, and safest, bet." Hermione explained.

Harry briefly wondered why the Goblins and the Ministry were at odds, and then it became rather obvious: bigotry and prejudice. He knew first hand that the Ministry was full of a bunch of sheep and bigots in disguise, it was no wonder the Goblin governed their own nation.

"How are we supposed to get to Diagon Alley? We can't apparate or make a portkey. And I doubt Dumbledore would let us take the Knight Bus, Floo, or fly even if I was willing to ask him…which I'm not." Harry said. He and Hermione thought on it for a minute, and drew a blank until a speck in on the horizon gave them both an idea.

"Owl!" They exclaimed simultaneously. Breakfast finished, the two Gryffindors hurried back up to the castle and to the library. After several hours of researching proper etiquette and wordings when dealing with Goblins, Harry and Hermione sent off Hedwig with a carefully worded letter.

_Greetings Vaulted Griphook,_

_May your gold forever prosper and your enemies forever fall upon your blade. I, Harry James Potter, am willingly asking upon the aid and assistance of Gringotts in the matter of my involuntary and highly life-threatening participation in the Wizarding contest, the Triwizard Tournament…_

The letter had gone on to explain a bit more detail about the entire situation, keeping to the formal tone, and Hermione had even added several laws that were likely to be broken upon Harry's participation. In the end, all they could do was wait and try to avoid three angry Houses, two foreign schools, and that Deserter Ronald Weasley.

When Goblin Account Manager, Griphook, read the letter from two Hogwarts students, he couldn't believe his luck. The Goblin Panel had been dismayed by several recent events, including the robbery attempt three years ago and this was exactly what he needed to get back in their good graces. Also, it opened up many avenues for Gringotts to snub not only the Ministry, but Dumbledore as well. And if _the_ Harry Potter was personally requesting his help, well then all the better.

Goblins are always quick to spot a business opportunity and the fact that Griphook had received the request from Mr. Potter personally, his superiors had qualms about assigning him both the account and an immediate promotion that comes with it. Failure to keep such a… prominent customer happy would of course be, immediate death, as was tradition and custom. Senior Accounts Manager Griphook suddenly had a great deal to do, including retrieving a copy of the tournaments rules and regulations from archives, before unleashing the bank's team of legal experts on the matter. On top of that, he had to draft a reply to Mr. Potter.

Monday morning saw Harry finishing up his last lap and quickly moving into his push-ups, sit-ups, and using a nearby sturdy tree branch for pull-ups. He did this as Hermione finished her last two laps. She had insisted on joining him, and Harry welcomed the company, even though Hermione stayed behind him.

However, she wasn't too far behind him in physical condition, and had only fallen behind at the very end. Now, both he and Hermione were completely soaked with sweat, headed up to the Gryffindor Tower, to their respective dorms, and showered and prepared for lessons.

The previous day hadn't been too horrible, Harry supposed. There had been more than a few shouting matches, wands drawn, and Professors breaking up potential fights, but it had never gone too far. Ronald was still acting like a git, and things were generally not as great as they could be, but Harry tolerated it.

The Goblet of Fire had kick-started something huge, and Harry and Hermione knew it. They just hoped they would be ready for it.


	2. Consequences of Inaction

**Chapter Two:**

**Consequences of Inaction**

"_**Act as if what you'll do will make all the difference someday. If you do, maybe one day it will.**_**" –Unknown**

Harry hadn't been ignorant to the fact that Ron made it a point to draw attention to how he was ignoring Harry, but he chose not to react in anyway, and saw how much it annoyed the red-head. Ron noticed that Harry was ignoring him as well, and he also noticed that Hermione had been around Harry all day since that liar had his name pulled from the Goblet. As he piled his plate high with breakfast, he was confident that Hermione was too smart to fall for Harry's attention seeking innocent act.

However, when the two entered the Great Hall that morning, laughing and looking the epitome of best friends, Ron's confidence shattered. His eyes followed them as they walk down the length of the Gryffindor Table and sat amongst the lower years. In Ron's opinion, they were seated too close, especially since he usually sat between him. And in that moment, Ron convinced himself of something very important in his mind: Harry had stolen _his_ Hermione.

Feeling something rise within him, Ron watched as Hermione gave him the slightest glance and then went back to talking to Harry as if he didn't exist. Something incredibly dark and angry inside of Ron snapped, and his plate crashed loudly to the floor as he abruptly stood, all noise in the Great Hall stopped, and all eyes turned to him. With his face burning red, Ron walked around the table and stormed down it until he was towering over Harry, who glanced up almost bored looking.

"You selfish, lying, attention-seeking, arrogant prat!" Ron roared into Harry's face. Hermione looked incredibly shocked and taken aback, but Ron was focused completely on Harry who was currently taking deep breaths to calm his own temper. "How dare you lie and cheat your way into the Tournament without helping me, and then you go and steal _my_ girl? You know I called dibs on Hermione, and now you both are all lovey dovey?" Ron snapped.

Harry was feeling the strain of holding in his growing frustration and rage, when he sensed more than heard Hermione stand up on his left. He stood up as well and saw that she was shaking with barely suppressed rage, and wisely took a step a away from her. She glared at Ron with such loathing, it was almost tangible. She took a step forward and sharply jabbed a finger into Ron's chest. "You arrogant bastard!" Hermione hissed angrily, though the entire hall was deathly silent and heard every word.

"How dare you think that you can call dibs on me, Ronald Bilius Weasley, and I'd just accept that!? I am a _human being_ not an item to be coveted. And not that it's any of your business, but Harry and I are just friends, he's like my brother for Merlin's sake!" She growled. It didn't escape Harry's notice that there were many sighs of relief at that statement. He snorted.

Ron rounded on him, his face now turning a dangerous shade of purple. "And I suppose you think this is funny, do you? If you had never cheated and then stole MY Hermione, none of this would've happened!" Ron yelled. Hermione cuffed him on the back of the head, and his head snapped around to meet her angry ones. They were face to face, their noses almost touches, staring each other down.

"I'm going to say this one more time, I am not yours!" Hermione yelled. Harry knew Ron was capable of a lot of things, being a git was obviously something, but he didn't think Ron was capable of what he had just done. Regardless, he saw Ron raise his right hand, and then bring it down across Hermione's face, slapping her to the ground. Every single person in the hall gasped or inhaled sharply at the action. But seeing Hermione clutch her crying face on the floor, Harry finally snapped.

Pulling out his wand, Harry rounded on Ron and prepared to curse the idiot boy into oblivion. Unfortunately, he spared a glance down at Hermione, and Ron got in a cheap shot. "_Expelliarmus!"_ Ron yelled. Harry kept a grip on his wand, but Ron's spell crashed into his chest and sent him flying back, crashing back-first into the Ravenclaw table. He was sure to have a killer bruise for that. He glanced to his left, and his emerald eyes met the absolutely breathtaking sapphire orbs of a girl he'd never seen before. She instantly caught his attention, however, he had a fight to get back to.

Before he could stand however, Ron wildly fired off several more spells, striking nearby students. This of course, caused the crowd to back away rather quickly. Standing up, Harry retaliated quickly, and some people learned why Harry was best at Defense every year. "_Madidus!"_ Instantly, a strong torrent of water shot from Harry's and knocked Ron on his rear, but Harry was far from finished. "_Glacius! Libaugeo! Epileptus! Vitus Carcere!"_

In rapid succession, several things happened. First, the water that Harry had drenched Ron with froze; second, upon seeing the boy about to retaliate, the next spell swelled Ron's lips to the point where he couldn't talk; next, he caused Ron's hair and body to flash different shades of pink, further embarrassing the boy; and finally, huge vines shot from Harry's wand and snaked around Ron, gripping him tightly.

Stepping back, Harry calmly lowered his wand and helped Hermione to stand up. He was just asking her if she was ok, though he could see the hand-shaped bruise on her cheek, when he heard multiple sets of footsteps approaching. "Potter!" screamed the greasy bat of the dungeons, a.k.a. Severus Snape, without a doubt Harry's top enemy within Hogwarts since the day he stepped foot through the front doors.

The man was storming towards them, with Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore hurrying behind him. Poppy Pomfrey, meanwhile, was trying to undue whatever Harry had done to Ron. He felt Snape roughly grab the front of his robe in a tight fist, bringing them face to face. "What have you done now, Potter?" Snape hissed angrily. Harry glared at the man with such hate and loathing that Snape's glare faltered for a split second before returning full force.

Pointedly ignoring Snape, Harry turned to Poppy. "You're worrying about a boy that has just struck a girl across the face, when she has a bruise. Maybe you need to get your priorities straightened." Harry said coldly. He heard many gasps, but Poppy just distractedly waved her wands in Hermione's direction, and Harry watched as the bruise disappeared. Snape shook him roughly. "Potter, I'm talking to you!" He snapped.

"I'm sorry…sir," Harry added as an afterthought, "but I have no idea what you're talking about." He finished coolly. Snape shook him again.

"Do not lie, Potter! You attacked another student in front of all Professors and several hundred students! Do you really think your fame with let you slip from this!?" Snape yelled. Harry matched Snape's stare with a calm but steely glare of him own.

"If you took the time to think about the situation _Professor,_ then you would realize that Ronald not only hit my friend, a _girl_ at that, but he also fired the first shot. And then he fired off several other spells, hitting innocent students…in front of Professors, several hundred students…and you. I merely defended myself against an attacker." Harry replied. If Snape's eyes could kill, Harry would've been dead six times over. The man was practically vibrating with hate for Harry.

"You arrogant little bastard!" Snape growled. The bat glared into his eyes and Harry felt a slight niggle in his mind, and broke eye contact with the man. He didn't know what that was, but he knew to now avoid eye contact with Snape. Finally, Dumbledore stepped in and finally placated almost everyone, sending Ron to the Hospital Wing and the students back to their meals.

He studied Harry as the boy sat back at the table and whispered something to Hermione. There was something incredibly… different about the boy, even the way he held himself. And Dumbledore was left to wonder whether this was going to be a good or bad thing for him and his plans.

Not only were Harry and Hermione not punished, but Ron was sentenced to literal House arrest. He wasn't allowed to leave Gryffindor Tower for any purpose. He couldn't go to class, one of the other bathrooms, or even to the Great Hall for meals. All meals were brought to him via house-elf. In addition to that, Molly Weasley received a letter about the incident and his consequences. That night, the _entire_ castle took delight in waiting to hear the legendary Howler that Molly was likely to send to Ron.

In his office, Headmaster Dumbledore sat in his throne-like chair, absently sucking on a lemon-drop, and contemplated the change in Harry. Whoever had set him up in the Goblet of Fire had shook his plans loose slightly, but he was still in control of the situation. He could still indirectly and directly control Harry's actions, especially after the boy came running to him for help. It was only a matter of time before he did. After all, Dumbledore had personally made sure that there was not a complete set of Tournament rules anywhere, including the school library and the Ministry, so the boy would be forced to ask him for assistance.

Luckily, Harry wasn't experienced enough in the wizarding world customs to realize that he could petition for emancipation the minute he turned fifteen, or at least become an emancipated minor until then. Emancipation was the key in Dumbledore's mind. It was one of those threads that could unravel the whole tapestry. So wrapped up in planning the rest of Harry's actions and moves, he never noticed the look of utter disdain from his familiar, Fawkes, nor did he notice the slight rumble of unhappiness from Hogwarts herself.

Back in Gryffindor Tower after Ron had been healed and released from the Hospital Wing, Fred and George had to literally physically hold Ginny back from pummeling Ron to dust. "Damn it, Ron! Bill and Charlie have both brains and understanding and caring of other people; Percy is an encyclopedia in his own right, and he can be caring once in a while; even the bloody twins are capable of being intelligent and caring when the mood strikes them! You haven't gotten enough understanding, compassion, or intelligence to fill a vial!" Ginny snapped angrily.

Ron had tried to tune her out, but it was rather hard when the twins were barely succeeding in holding her back, and she was actually less than three feet from him. "That arrogant bastard has everything, and I have nothing! It's not fair! And that idiot doesn't even do anything with all that fame and fortune!" Ron ranted obliviously. Ginny growled and made another swipe at Ron, but luckily for Ron, Fred grabbed her arm and pulled her another foot away.

"Oh you stupid git! I'm glad McGonagall sent that letter to Mum. Maybe she can knock some sense into your thick skull!" Ginny spat angrily. "Mum will be absolutely livid, and I hope she comes down here in person!" By this point, even the twins had paled at the prospect of their mother coming to Hogwarts. That snapped Ron out of his envious rant, and he stared at Ginny in horror.

"A letter to Mum? You can't be serious, please tell me McGonagall didn't really…" Ron begged. Ginny gave a loud sarcastic laugh.

"You deserve more, you bastard. How could you hit a girl? Hermione, even! She's been your best friend for years, Merlin knows why, and then you turn around and _hit_ her! You left a bruise!" Ginny snarled, getting herself worked up again.

"She…she sided with that prat!" Ron yelled back. Fred and George shook their heads at him.

"Ron, you truly are—" Fred began solemnly.

"Something else, quite thick—" George added.

"I might add. Apparently –" Fred continued.

"There wasn't enough good traits –" George picked up.

"To go around after five sons, yet Ginny here has more than enough." Fred finished.

"But…she deserved it for siding with that liar!" Ron spat. Every single person in the common room gasped, having been watching the spectacle with high levels of interest. No matter what they believed about Harry, they all agreed with everything Ginny said. Every single girl in the common room turned a heated glare on Ronald.

Upon hearing that, Ginny snarled angrily, too filled with anger to make real words any longer. The twins were really struggling and considered simply stunning Ginny, but knew that when she woke up, all hell would truly break loose. It was either Ron or them.

Glancing at each other grimly, Fred and George nodded…and set Ginny loose.

She immediately grabbed her wand and stalked towards Ron, who smartly took a few steps back. She raised her wand and he wisely took off through the portrait hole with Ginny chasing after him. After a good five minutes of chasing him down the corridor, shooting spells at his back, she finally tripped him with a well-aimed _Claudeo_, which sent him sprawling across the floor.

Stalking towards him, Ginny aimed her wand and after a few good hexes, she grinned evilly and left him there on the floor, returning to recount the tale to the twins, who laughed at Ron's predicament. This time, Ron crawled his way to the Hospital Wing, only this time, he would have to stay for longer than a few minutes.

That night, Ron was only let out of the Tower to serve his detention, which extended for two months working for Filch. As he scrubbed the stone floors of the Entrance Hall, Ronald was interrupted and engaged in a very enlightening conversation with Draco Malfoy, one that left him wondering if he was siding with the right people.

That night, Draco returned to his dorm and wondered whether he had a possible recruit for the pureblood cause.


	3. Face the Past to Change the Future

**Chapter Three:**

**Face the Past to Change the Future**

"_**Nobody will believe in you, unless you believe in yourself first.**_**" – Liberace**

Tuesday morning went much the same as Monday morning, with Harry and Hermione taking their run around the Black Lake. Finishing rather soaked in sweat, they headed back to the Tower, showered, dressed, and left for the Great Hall. They had heard about what Ginny did to Ron last night, and had chuckled gleefully at his expense. Harry had been reluctant but holding out to decide whether or not to reconcile with Ron, and Hermione had been convinced that the boy would change his mind, but after the previous morning, both only had thoughts of contempt for the red-head.

And sure enough, that morning the _entire _castle was treated to a morning alert in the form of Molly's Howler to Ron. And even though he opened it in the privacy of his dorm, every single inhabitant of the castle heard Molly tear him a new one.

"…_absolutely disgusted!"_

"…_raised you better than that!"_

"…_hit a girl!? And sweet, dear Hermione at that?"_

"…_Ronald Bilius Weasley, are you out of your bloody mind?"_

"…_ought to come over to Hogwarts right now and tan your hide!"_

The words reverberated off the walls of the castle and bounced back, causing random groups of students to burst into laughter at Ron's plight, but really, he had brought it on himself. As they ate breakfast together, Harry found himself scanning the Ravenclaw table for a specific pair of shining sapphire eyes but was disappointed to come up short. Who was that girl he had crashed next to the previous day? Something about her…intrigued Harry.

He was pulled from his search when Hermione tapped him on the arm, and pointed up in time for him to notice the sudden flood of owls, on time for the morning post. In the sea of owls, Harry instantly spotted his snowy white owl, Hedwig, and smiled. She swooped down and landed gracefully on his outstretched arm, careful not to hurt him with her talons. She hooted softly, and Harry murmured soothingly to her as he stroked her feathers.

Hermione watched the scene with a smile and it was clear to anyone that Harry and Hedwig were truly close. Harry had begun to gain a near permanent cold glint in his eyes, and Hedwig melted it in an instance as she cooed and rubbed her head against Harry's cheek. A bit down the table, Lavender and Parvati grinned and said, "Aww, how cute!" This, of course, caused several people to laugh good naturedly, and Harry blushed but carefully removed the letter tied to her leg.

He fed her some bacon and let her drink from his goblet of water, while he unfurled the letter. Taking a breath, Harry began to read with Hermione reading over his shoulder.

_Greetings, Warrior Potter, and Salutations,_

_It is to our displeasure that we learn that you are once again in harms' way. Upon receiving the copy of both the tournament contract and retrieving the archive copy of the tournaments rules, regulations and code of conduct for the Tri-wizard Tournament, our legal experts have come to the unanimous conclusion that the contract is legally binding and unbreakable unless you are willing to suffer the consequences._

_The binding nature of the contract stems from the assumption that any student who places their name in to the Goblet of Fire understands that they are entering a binding contract with the Goblet. The Goblet is unable to comprehend precisely your situation and chose you to represent your school, sealing the magical contract._

_There are numerous legal loopholes that are available for you exploitation, in part due to the fact that the Ministry of Magic's copy of the rules is incomplete. With the Champions drawn and the Tournament underway, the rules are in effect irrevocable until after the current incarnation of the Triwizard Cup._

_In essence, you competing in a ministry-sponsored event reserved for witches and wizards of age against your free will. Thus, the Ministry of Magic must recognize you as an adult or more likely, an emancipated minor for the duration of the tournament for you to be eligible to compete in the 1994 Triwizard Tournament._

_Full emancipation is not possible due to your age, and requires the approval of several different individuals including the current headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Irrespective of this, as an emancipated minor, you would gain immediate access and control of the Potter Family Vault. I would like to invite you to a meeting at your earliest convenience to discuss the possibilities and ramifications of your decisions. Beyond the wards of Hogwarts, this letter will function as a portkey activated by the phrase "Goblin Sanctuary."_

_Gringotts stands ready to render whatever assistance you require._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Griphook_

_Senior Accounts Manager_

After reading the letter, Harry and Hermione shared a brief glance, but that one look carried a full conversation. Having been inseparable since first year, the two had become close enough to communicate without even using words. They went through lessons that day, and after dinner, a bit before curfew, they descended through one of the almost forgotten passageways leading into the cellar of Honeydukes in Hogsmeade, before they activated the portkey, and were whisked away.

Now, all branches of Gringotts were layered thickly and intricately with several centuries' worth of wards and protections. However, with the very special portkey, Harry and Hermione were delivered safely to Griphook's office. They were dumped directly into the two chairs in front of Griphook's desk, and despite being warned ahead of time, the two guards tensed and reached for their axes, until Griphook waved them down.

"Greetings and welcome to the Bank of Gringotts, Mr. Potter."

The vast Hogwarts library had contained only a few books on Goblin culture and etiquette. Having read and then studied the teens both bowed from the waist, slightly lower than Griphook had and rose with their right arm crossed over their chest, hand closed in a fist over their shoulder as if clenching the hilt of a Goblin battle-axe. "Greetings Griphook, may your gold forever multiply," replied Harry, taking care to meet the gaze of the slightly astonished Goblin.

"And may your enemies suffer horrible death upon your blade." continued Hermione smoothly. Griphook broke in to a smile that was all teeth and both teenagers relaxed slightly at the expression of pleasure.

"Ms. Granger, welcome to Gringotts." He paused for a moment, "I have taken the liberty of arranging some refreshments while we conduct our business. Would that be satisfactory?" Thirty minutes later, both teenagers were somewhat shaken, drinking cups of coffee as they struggled to come to terms with several important things: The first was that Harry just beyond incredibly wealthy. Suffice to say his combined assets placed him amongst wealthiest wizards of the world.

Griphook explained that it was all his, and would become his when he reached the age of majority – seventeen in the wizarding world. However, due to his involuntary participation in the Triwizard Tournament, he was, effective immediately an emancipated minor. He had access to and control of his trust and family vault. Control of his properties, and other investments would remain in the control of his magical guardian, Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore, greatest British wizard in the last century would have a great deal of explaining and accounting to do. For the first time, Harry discovered that his parents had left behind a last will and testament with instructions should their worst fears come to pass. It had been, in a word: Ignored.

Remus Lupin was denied custody due to his Lycanthropy. Frank and Alice Longbottom were deemed unfit due to a long-term medical condition that required long-term care. Augusta Longbottom, Matriarch of the Longbottom Clan was never informed. That had almost set Harry off completely. He could've grown up with Neville as brothers!

When Harry revealed that he had never seen the Potter family vault let alone heard of it, Griphook stared at him for a long moment. He snapped a series of orders and leading them through the warrens to the carts, "Mr. Potter, a witch or wizard is supposed to be taken to see, and have their blood added to the protections and securities upon their family vault at the age of eleven. Why this has not been done, I do not know." That would be something else for Albus Dumbledore to answer. The wind whistled around them as they hurtled deeper in to the earth until they stopped at a vault numbering in the double digits instead of the usual three of four digits.

The goblin took his time to explain the nature of the blood wards that protected the vaults. A quick cut across the fingertip, three drops of blood later and the runes upon the door glowed gold and red before fading away. The wards kept everyone but those of the bloodline. Even the Goblins access was limited to depositing gold and other items.

Despite numerous attempts, bribes, negotiations and blackmail attempts, Dumbledore had never accessed the vault or even found its number. There was money aplenty in the trust vault but twenty trust vaults could fit inside the one he was currently standing in. Harry made a note to come down here some time, to truly explore the vault properly including the furniture, suits of armor and heaven alone knew what else.

When they returned to the Griphook's office, they simply talked, or more accurately, Harry did, venting several years of frustrations and anger and disbelief, and Griphook grew visibly more angered the more he learned of Harry's misadventures. The mention of the slain Basilisk had the goblin's undivided attention, "Fifty feet? It would be one of the largest specimens on record and worth a several small fortunes!"

Harry just shrugged, "It might be bigger than fifty feet… I didn't have a tape measure on me at the time, just a sword," he said with a slight smile. Griphook stared for a moment and Hermione squeezed his knee somewhat nervously as Harry sallied forth, "Though perhaps, a battle axe would have been preferable." The teenage wizards realized what they were hearing was the sound of Goblin laughter.

Griphook's demeanor changed, going from open and friendly – for a Goblin – to one of professional reserve, "I have a few business propositions." The friends shared a glance and nodded, "Very well, first of all, the Basilisk. As you slew the creature, it is yours to do with, by right of conquest. I would like your permission to gather the apothecary to harvest the creature. A second matter is the tournament. What exactly are your objectives?"

"Survive it, and not look like a complete idiot while doing it." Harry answered simply.

"With Hogwarts already having drawn a champion, in essence you do not represent a school. I would like to propose that you represent the Goblin's in this tournament. We have our own magic school if you will, however for the sake of privacy, we will simply say that you are representing Gringotts as a whole." Griphook said.

"I would suggest that you allow Gringotts to act as your representatives, we would of course, pay handsomely for both opportunities, especially the honor" there was no sarcasm in the Goblin's manner, "of having a wizard of your fame and stature represent Gringotts, and by extension the interest of the Goblin Nation."

Harry seemed to shut down for a few moments, as he gathered a breath and exhaled it slowly. Griphook had seen the sudden flash of panic in the young wizard's eyes, and he was suddenly having visions of death in his immediate future. "It would appear, Mr. Potter, that I have touched upon a subject of a sensitive nature…"

Harry shook his head, "Yes. Yes, you have," confirmed Harry, "But it is not your fault. You, just don't know…"

Hermione stepped in, "What Harry means to say Griphook, is that the fame and recognition and its accompanying spotlight, it's not something that he neither craves nor even wants. In the past few days, he has learned that he is in a competition where people have died, lost a valuable friendship," she grimaced, "Become the future and possibly last patriarch of his line, discovered he is rich enough to never ever need work again and on top of it all, he is only fourteen years old. The money, the power, the influence, the fame… it's all…"

"Overwhelming," finished Harry, "for any teen, for almost any wizard. I had hoped to have a normal quiet year at Hogwarts, where my biggest problem would have been class assignments, quizzes and examinations and perhaps finding myself a girlfriend," Hermione snorted at the last part, "Fate it seems, just does not want to leave me alone."

He said the last without hint of malice or rancor, and it left the goblin stunned. He had yet to meet more than a handful of wizards who did not covet money and power. "If you can get around Albus Dumbledore, you can harvest the Basilisk, and Griphook, I would welcome the backing of the… the backing of Gringotts for the Triwizard Tournament, especially if you can help me have some fun with the ministry. But I have one condition."

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Call me Harry."

Griphook had not been sure what to expect. Griphook was his name in the Wizard tongue. Amongst Goblins, to refer to anyone by just their given name, without title or honorifics was an uncommon honor. He suddenly realized just how much more mature the… young wizard before him was. If a Goblin smile made wizards nervous, then a goblin grin would be a fearsome or perhaps terrifying sight, "Harry, it is." The goblin sipped his tea, "Might I suggest that one of your immediate goals should be to subdue the media?"

They returned to the castle the same way they left, and retrieved the Marauder's map after checking several different clocks and watches. Had they only been in Gringotts for an hour? - It did not take long for them to locate their target in the library.

The library was huge, taking up a great deal of the fourth floor with thousands of books on at least several thousand shelves. It was such a depository of knowledge that there were entire sections devoted to a single subject. Study tables nestled in corners and in between the spread out stacks throughout the red-carpeted rooms and criss-crossed between the full bookshelves.

The high vaulted roof of the library gave credence to the rumor that it had once been a cathedral as they meandered through the stacks on the balcony that overlooked the main floor, "Luna Lovegood?" Harry whispered.

The blond heard her name called and sighed. She never caught a break since coming to Hogwarts. She wondered who it was this time that would try to make fun of her, or steal some of her things. Turning around slowly, Luna's eyes widened as she came face to face with _the_ Harry Potter and his friend, Hermione Granger.

Harry held out a hand for Luna to shake. "I… we understand that your father owns The Quibbler. I have a business proposition: Exclusive rights and access to Harry James Potter." He explained with a smile. Luna didn't take his hand, and Harry noticed immediately how her eyes closed off and hardened. He dropped his hand and looked extremely confused. Luna appeared to be shaking with rage.

"My housemates making fun of me and stealing my belongings is one thing," Luna hissed angrily, Harry and Hermione were in shock, "but I half expected something different from the great Harry Potter! When I actually want to be scorned and the butt of another "loony" joke, I will spend my time in the Ravenclaw Common Room!" She whirled around and prepared to leave. Harry was desperate and gently grabbed her arm.

She spun around and her wand was in her hand in a second. Luna looked into Harry's emerald eyes and saw the truth, and the desperation. "Luna," he said pleadingly, "please… just hear us out." She stared at him for a minute, inwardly impressed that he didn't squirm like people usually did under her stormy grey gaze. Luna nodded. Harry took a breath.

"I've been feared, and reviled as the next Dark Lord. I am hated on principal by Malfoy and despised by Snape because I was born. I am famous, for something I don't remember, and didn't even do." he whispered the last. "I spent my summer thinking about it all and realized that it was my mother's sacrifice that saved me. I don't know how or why but whatever she did caused the killing curse to rebound. The hero is Lily Potter. It was never me." he said honestly.

"I may tease my friends a little, and sometimes, sometimes I do say things I wish I hadn't said," He was thinking of Ron at that moment, "But I don't do it on purpose. Please. Just give us a minute."

Hermione quietly handed the roll of parchment to Luna. "It's a serious offer Luna. We know The Quibbler is small, family owned and run…"

Luna shook her head, parchment in hand, "Like you said: Small paper, family owned and family run. We can't afford to pay what you want for that kind of an exclusivity deal."

"Not true," grinned Harry, "I forget the exact law," he gently nudged Hermione in the ribs, almost as if daring her to interrupt.

She grinned back, "Laws of Magical Trade and Business, Section 31, subsection 10, paragraph O," much to Luna's amusement.

"Yes, what Hermione just said," he confirmed, "The minimum rate for such an exclusivity deal is subject to negotiation between the parties concerned. I'm willing to grant exclusivity to The Quibbler until the start of the summer holidays, for the price of one Galleon." It seemed that the offer was not only genuine, but had already received the stamp of approval from the legal department of Gringotts and the Quibbler's own law firm.

Luna had been helping run the paper during the holidays, even writing and contributing her own pieces. Her father had allowed her to join him on the board of directors, making the total number of directors two. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. "This deal is with you, your father and the Quibbler." said Harry.

She pulled a quill from her bag. "I am on the board of directors and my father said I would have the authority to consider any deal, and sign on any valued at less than fifty Galleons. So on behalf of the Quibbler," she paused and scrawled her signature across the veritable dotted line, "It would be an honor to accept this business arrangement and enter in to business with you."

With Harry signing the contract and Hermione signing as the legal witness, the parchment glowed a deep ocean blue and copied itself. The original was for Gringotts who would handling the payment, and one copy for each party. With the deal done, she broke in to a smile, "My father wouldn't sell the Quibbler for all the gold in your vault."

"What about all the gold in Gringotts?" Harry countered.

She hummed for only a moment, "A tempting offer, but still not enough." A chuckle of laughter broke out as Harry linked arms with Hermione, and dramatically bowed and offered his other arm to Luna. She took it surprise written across her face, "Why now?" she whispered, almost afraid to believe what was happening was true.

"I've let others control me and my life, and its time I start to make decisions of my own." said Harry amicably. "I think it's time I live life my way, and making new friends seems like a good place to start." The trio left the library, Luna with her book bag slung over one shoulder.

'_Friends,_' Luna thought, "Yes. That would be a good thing."


	4. Surprises Galore

**Chapter Four: **

**Surprises Galore**

"_**You have two choices: you can take what life throws at you and run with it, or you don't and run from it."**_** –Unknown **

The following morning at breakfast, the owls delivered the post as usual. A minute after that, things finally kicked off. Wizards use owls to deliver their post, and Goblins use them for normal communications. However, the purebloods and most of the half bloods could only stare in disbelief.

The lightning sprites appeared in a miniature strike of lightning that startled almost anyone, causing more than enough spills to give Filch an aneurism. They landed lighted on their clawed feet and delivered the messages, without care for the upset drink, scattered food and in one case a mop and pail before vanishing, leaving four students and Filch holding envelopes.

The rather…undesirable caretaker was first to tear open his envelope and his expression, Harry was sure, would have been worth a picture. He stormed, more than walked towards Harry and thrust out the letter. "Potter, what… what is this?" his voice was a mix of confusion and fear.

Harry grinned, "Compensation."

Ginny had opened her own letter and gasped at the sum, "Seventy five, thousand Galleons!" she stuttered, rubbing her eyes as she stared at the parchment, not believing what her eyes were seeing. Colin Creevey and Justin Finch-Fletchley had opened their own envelopes and confirmed that they all contained the same thing: Notification from Gringotts that they were account holders with a balance of 75,000 Galleons or had the aforementioned amount debited to their existing accounts.

"Why? Why now Harry?" asked Ginny, still staring at the letter in disbelief.

"It's something that's been long overdue, I think." Harry replied calmly, as he raised his voice. "Compensation for those who were attacked by the Basilisk during my second year." another lightning sprite suddenly materialized and delivered a fifth envelope, to Hermione. The exchange rate to the British pound being what it is, the bank draft was worth almost a quarter of a million pounds!

He gentle yanked one of her curls, a clear sign of a brother/sister relationship. "It's only right," he whispered, "Besides, Hagrid should have gotten his by now."

He turned towards the staff table to address his head of house. After everything, he had learned about Albus Dumbledore's dealing and meddling, ignoring him was taking all of Harry's will power. How he longed to run across the hall and rip that long beard from his face with his bare hands.

Harry visibly grinned evilly at the thought, and Dumbledore shivered as he spotted it. "Professor McGonagall, the remains of the Basilisk which I killed with the Sword of Godric Gryffindor is still in the Chamber of Secrets. By the laws that govern the wizarding world, it is mine by right of conquest." Snape's mouth hung open for a moment and then snapped shut with a sharp click. "The corpse has already been sold."

Albus Dumbledore realized that things were not going according to plan. The boy should be a basket case of nerves and worry, running to him for help. Instead, he was holding his own…with help of course. He had planned to step in and play mentor when things began to get out of hand. However, Harry had moved quicker than expected.

One would have thought that the people of the wizarding world would have figured out not to expect things from Harry, since nothing ever went according to plan with him. Dumbledore figured that the best way to begin his counter-manipulation would be to get as much knowledge as possible. "Perhaps Harry," said Dumbledore, with the ever-present twinkle in his eye, "could you explain who you sold the basilisk to?"

If there is one thing that the art of war and making money have in common, it is the opportunity for making spectacular spectacles, as was unfolding in the Great Hall of Hogwarts on that crisp November morning. When the doors to the Great Hall slammed open, the sound of metal clashing on metal filled the hall, as Griphook marched in flanked by warriors who protected a further dozen Goblins, levitating large cases between them.

Albus Dumbledore recognized the insignia of the elite Axe Master Honor Guard. They were not protecting the lead Goblin; they were protecting the apothecary that was here for the Basilisk. This was more complicated than he had originally thought.

"Mr. Potter," the Goblin bowed and then turned to face his companion, "Ms. Granger." Dumbledore was slightly miffed when ignored. Hermione and Harry smiled, and bowed, as they had done before, much to the surprise of everyone. "My apologies for the delay, but it took us somewhat longer than anticipated to enter the grounds of the castle due to some rather unusual enchantments."

"No apologies necessary," said Harry, "I trust that you and you kin are ready to proceed?" the goblin nodded briskly and began barking orders. Harry turned to address Luna, "Triwizard Champions are allowed a retinue of advisers, followers and so forth. As my official press representative, I formally invite you to join my retinue."

Having never been made particularly welcome in the Ravenclaw dorm, she lost her usual dreamy look in a flash and made the decision in a split second, "I accept." she replied without even looking to any of her housemates, most of whom were watching on in disbelief, along with almost every other student.

Things were getting a little too far out of control for Dumbledore's taste as he moved to nip things in the bud, "I believe that would not be possible," he said passing judgment, "the rules of the tournament…"

More than one Goblin had dreamed for this moment: To put this particular wizard in his place. Griphook stepped forward, a roll of parchment in hand, "That decision is not yours to make headmaster. The rules and regulations of the Triwizard Tournament are very clear, on a number of points. Firstly, under Section 3, sub-section 5C, the tournament may host as many champions as there are schools, but all schools are limited to have only one champion participating in the tournament."

"Mr. Potter's participation was coerced as he was entered under the name of a fictitious fourth school. Section 1 clearly states that each school participating in the tournament may have only one Champion. In essence, the Champion of Hogwarts was and is Cedric Diggory." There was a look of surprise on the face of every Hufflepuff present. Potter was acknowledging Cedric as the Hogwarts champion "Furthermore, Mr. Potter has graciously accepted the offer to represent Gringotts as his school."

Dumbledore kept his temper firmly in check as he saw several decades of careful planning, manipulation and string carelessly burned and scattered in the wind. The misconception that the goblins hated wizards in general was one the purebloods were happy to cultivate, and one that Dumbledore was happy to help perpetuate on the sly.

Keeping the Goblins as second-class citizens and at odds with everyone else had prevented them from being a unifying force for other races such as the House Elf, Centaur, and possibly the Vampires and Werewolves. Harry had not only undermined but also undone everything he had done to keep these races at odds to avoid them joining Voldemort.

Griphook amusement had become full blown enjoyment, as was clear to those few in the know about the goblin smiles. "As a representative of another school, Mr. Potter is entitled to the same conditions and the privileges as the other three champions, per Section two, subsection one through seven: He is entitled to separate living quarters and training facilities, away from his fellow champions on the grounds or within the hosting school which is in this instance, Hogwarts."

"Furthermore, Section 2, subsection eight states clearly that family, friends and loved ones can be accommodated with the Champion if they so choose. Subsection 9 extends the same privileges to those who are members of the Champions Retinue, which present formally includes Ms. Luna Lovegood, Hogwarts, Ravenclaw House, and Hermione Granger, Hogwarts, Gryffindor House."

"Subsection nine, sub clauses one and two clearly state that champions may alter the composition of their retinues to suit their needs and purposes at any time of their choosing."

Griphook's smile became an all teeth grin, "Finally, Section 27, subsections one through fifteen grant any underage Champion participating in the Triwizard tournament partial emancipation, and a release from the Ministry of Magic's Decree for Underaged Wizardry for the duration of the tournament, and immediate access to their finances and their family vault!"

Dumbledore was beyond worried but he managed to keep his poker face intact. Harry had access to his finances, and could possibly take the next step towards full emancipation. The boy now had partial emancipation to participate in the tournament.

"Section fourteen, subsection three, clauses two through seven state that an underage wizard chosen to represent his school in the Triwizard Tournament is granted immediate and irrevocable partial emancipation and a waiver to the ministry of magic's restrictions on underage magic." On the inside, the headmaster panicked for a moment at the thought of the Potter family vault. A casual glance in to the boy's head with Legillimency revealed that he knew about that too.

Harry was a Champion, backed by the Goblins, and Gringotts. The key was emancipation, Dumbledore repeated. So long as the boy did not try for that, he could get him back to the Dursleys for the summer. He would just have to bide his time for the moment. The master manipulator had to admit that he had been out maneuvered and significantly undercut.

Magical law was clear that all tournament rules applied unless revoked before the lighting of the Goblet of Fire. No one had been able to find a full copy of the rules because he had altered the rules and destroyed the original. Nevertheless, the goblins had one! The Goblins! Moreover, they were using them against him and there was nothing he could do about it!

Hermione stood speechless at the new Harry standing beside her. He was far more confident, more determined and there was an air of direct power about him. It seemed to be clear that he was becoming something of an unstoppable force that was now studying its fellow Gryffindor. "Colin, I assume that you have your camera on you?"

The boy nodded, a little uncertain as to where this particular line of conversation was going as Harry broke in to a smile. "You want to take a picture of the monster that put you in the hospital wing?"

Colin appeared next to Harry in less than a second, clutching his camera for all it was worth. Harry turned, and extended a hand to another Gryffindor. His eyes sought hers, and the poor girl was whiter than a sheet in the hospital wing, "Ginny?"

She nodded, her jaw had a determined set to it, "I have to put the past behind me…" the raven-haired boy swept his gaze over the few others who were still holding their letters, and without another word, they joined him. They trooped out of the hall towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, only to find that most of the school was following behind them.

"Uh, Harry… we may have a… small problem developing behind us." whispered Hermione.

Luna had spent her years at Hogwarts always listening, watching and observing because people never wanted her participation. However, having spent so long observing without judging, she instinctively slowed her pace, closing with Ginny and gently took the girl's hand, and gave it a comforting squeeze.

On Ginny's right, Hermione was doing exactly the same thing. For the first time in her years at Hogwarts, she was on the receiving end of two smiles, and Luna suddenly understood what friendship and acceptance for who you are feels like. Ginny was visibly shaking.

"Ginny. You know that I … we won't let anything happen to you right?" Harry said reassuringly. The younger girl could only swallow on a dry throat and nod. Everyone watched in amazement as Harry hissed in Parseltongue and it moved the sink aside, and stairs seemed to grow out of the stone sides of the tunnel.

The Goblins and a select few students began their descent, with Harry hanging slightly back. Just after Professor McGonagall began to descend, a barrier snapped in to place. Dumbledore literally walked in to it. He blinked and drew his wand. _It was an impressive bit of magic,_ he mused, _but Harry could not cast a ward… The sheer reserve of power behind the ward meant he would be unable to overpower it, and subverting it would take too much time._

More significantly: This was not something a 14-year-old boy could have cast.

Seated in a plushy armchair of his own conjuration, the apparently serene headmaster patiently waiting the return of the trio of students he had correctly concluded to be at the heart of the day's events. Calm as he appeared to be, Dumbledore was actually in turmoil. He knew that Harry had not, could not have cast the charm or ward to create such a barrier.

The enraged potions master had not wasted an instant once the barrier had blocked his descent. "Potter! Remove your barrier or I will have you in detention, every night for the rest of this school year!" He was furious that thousands of galleons in the rarest of potions ingredients slipped between his fingers.

"Severus, we wait," said the headmaster, having cast a silencing and privacy charm around them. Barred in his own castle, the headmaster appeared as if he was still in control of the situation as they waited for those allowed to pass to return. In the mean time however, they headmaster and his potions professor would have to somehow tune out Myrtle unending sobbing.

As they descended, Harry gently grabbed Luna's arm, and she slowed to match his pace, hanging behind. "What is it, Harry?" Luna asked. Harry looked sheepish. It was perhaps the oddest time to think about her, but Harry needed to know about the girl he had seen two days ago.

"Luna…in your house, is there a girl with slightly pale skin, long wave black hair, and uh… bright sapphire colored eyes?" Harry described. He was sure he had seen the Ravenclaw crest on her robe when he had crashed into the table. Luna grinned and nodded.

"You must be talking about Isabelle." Luna said happily. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Her name is Isabelle?" He asked softly. Luna nodded with a knowing grin on her face.

"Her full name is Isabelle Isis Cantrine. I don't see how you don't know her Harry; she's in your year. She was at your sorting." Luna shook her head in amusement at Harry's dumbstruck look. How could he have not noticed someone so beautiful? She had a certain allure that was completely different and more natural than Fleur's,

While Fleur had Veelas' classic light airy traits, Isabelle's traits had been darker. However, her eyes were what stood out to him the most. "I don't suppose you know whether or not she has a boyfriend?" Harry asked, clearly embarrassed. Luna smirked.

"She doesn't, but I'll have to warn you Harry, she's almost the female version of you." Luna said. Harry stopped walking all together and stared at her in disbelief.

"What?" he croaked. Luna outright laughed and pulled him into walking again.

"Yeah, I mean personality wise. Isabelle was one of the very few people, especially girls, that didn't bully me; in fact, she helped me more than once. That's something you both share." Luna began. Harry smiled in relief; he had been worried that Isabelle was a bully like Cho and her lot. He gestured for her to continue.

"You both also share an amazing amount of magical power and that insane almost uncontrollable temper. I should add that Isabelle and Cho Chang absolutely hate each other after she put Cho in her place rather…forcefully." Luna continued. Harry grinned. He could handle a woman with some fire, it was something he needed.

He genuinely loved Hermione's passive yet always determined and ready attitude, and even Luna's tranquility, but he couldn't see them that way. Luna's smile faded a bit, and appeared sad.

"Death Eaters killed her parents in front of her, but she was five at the time, so she remembers. We talked about it once." Luna said sadly. Harry sighed. It was terrible that Isabelle's parents were killed, but it was something they had in common. Finally, someone who could understand something that no one else could.

"Anything else about her?" Harry asked softly.

"She's really intelligent, second in your year actually, right behind Hermione, but she doesn't…flaunt it the way Hermione does." Luna said as unoffending as possible, but Harry understood. "And you also both understand and see the clear realism of the world; you have no delusions that everything is perfect or will be alright, because sometimes it isn't. However, Isabelle isn't exactly the social type, so you'll have to do something that doesn't attract too much attention. Which we all know is…"

"Almost impossible when it involves me." Harry finished. Luna shrugged and caught up with Ginny and Hermione, while Harry stayed behind to contemplate all that he had learned about…Isabelle. A beautiful name, for a beautiful girl.

Those gathered below were standing by a cave in, the very same one where Lockhart had tried to obliviate both Harry and Ron. He waited patiently for the goblins to clear the way, even as he suppressed a twinge of hate for Ron. Ron had brought all of his troubles down on himself, but Harry didn't feel like wasting energy on hating the traitor.

He sighed, and realized everyone was watching him, waiting for him to say something. He shrugged and filled them in on what had transpired with the coward Lockhart, who had planned to obliviate them and play the tragic hero in what would have been another best seller. Professor Flitwick however was more interested in what had transpired at the mouth of the chamber.

"Mr. Potter, what was that ward upstairs? And why did it deny access to the headmaster?" It was no secret that Severus Snape was as unpopular amongst the teaching faculty as he was amongst the students. However, barring the headmaster was unusual, to say the least, never mind that out of the many students gathered, few had been granted passage.

"I honestly don't know sir," replied Harry with a shrug, "I can't cast a ward or spell that powerful." The three professors were not convinced that he did not know anything about the barrier, "But it's not the first time, someone has discreetly come to my aid." That remark left the gathered heads of house wondering what exactly they had missed as they stood before the door to the chamber itself. "I don't know how bad it's going to smell after two years."

There was a groan from everyone as the door opened and their fears of the smell were proved unfounded, much to the amusement of the Goblins.

Magical creatures do not begin to decompose until their innate magic has dissipated which given the size of the basilisk would not have been for at least another two to three hundred years. The torches along the walls burst in to life and the slain basilisk in all its glory stopped even the Goblins in their tracks.

Ginny was only on her feet by virtue of having Luna and Hermione holding her as they gently lowered the shaking girl to the floor, where she sobbed. Unsure what exactly he should or could do, he was saved from trying to comfort her by her brothers, who grabbed and dragged him aside, "I can't believe…" said Fred

"… that you fought that thing…" continued George

"…and killed it…." Replied Fred

"… To save our Ginny," concluded George. As always it was a little disconcerting talking to the twins without winding up with a severe case of whiplash as the brothers shared a glance, and agreed on something. "You ever need anything," started George.

"Anything at all," confirmed Fred.

"We're there," stated George, "brother!" They swept the confused teenager in a hug that would rival one of their mother's hugs before wiping their eyes and going to comfort their now, slightly less distraught sister.

"It's bloody gigantic! How the hell did you kill that thing with a sword?" asked Cedric. Justin and Colin could only stare at the dead monster as it sank in just how close they had come to being true friends instead of mere acquaintances with death. Neither muggle born would consider taking on such a creature with anything less than a full army, maybe not even then. Cedric shook his head. A French Veela would be eating her _'little boy'_ comment before too long.

Victor Krum was his usual reclusive self, but had taken note of the kill and made a note to actually step up his training and to take practice a little more seriously. He stared at the child…boy… Champion, he decided. Others could say what they want, but Champion Potter of Gringotts had slain a Basilisk at the age of twelve…

There was the flash as Colin snapped back to the moment and began taking pictures and after brief discussion with Griphook who was once again all teeth, he approached the Gryffindor photographer, with Luna in tow. "I've got a business proposition for both of you." The proposition was too good to be true for the young Gryffindor, who would have probably signed his soul over to Harry if asked. However, the professors presented prevented such a thing from happening as they agreed that the proposition was most generous in both its nature and the terms.

Ginny finally had herself under control enough to approach him, carrying a fang that had tatters of burned and melted paper along its edge. "Can I keep this?" she asked quietly. The fang was almost the length of her forearm, "it's the same one that you pulled from your arm and stabbed the diary with."

He took the fang from her, as the memories came rushing back of him dying as the acidic venom blazed an agonizing trail through his blood, struggling to apologize for being too slow, too late to save her. That was of course, before Fawkes had shed tears in to the wound to save him.

"Typical Harry Potter," Hermione said, there was a lilt of laughter to her words, "He puts everyone before himself, even when he's about to die."

A very embarrassed Harry replied, "If it makes you feel better Ginny then by all means take it, but make sure that it is safe – completely safe." She kissed him on the cheek and set off to find Griphook. She would have to do a lot to balance the life debt that she owed him, and did not exactly know where to start. Nevertheless, she would figure something out, she owed him so much.

The flash from Colin's camera outlined the harvest of the Basilisk as they drained the creature's blood, and then began to harvest of its internal organs, fangs and venom glands. Finally, the apothecaries began to separate the scales from the skin. From start to finish, the blend of almost muggle techniques and magic had taken only a few hours.

Finally, getting the last few pictures of the Goblins separating the scales and skin, Colin joined the small exodus back in to the castle. Harry and his growing entourage stayed back when Professor McGonagall paused. "You do know, that the Headmaster will be waiting for you?" she did not have to add that Snape would be there too.

Harry shrugged. "I'll face whatever and whoever comes my way." Harry said. That one sentence earned him much respect of everyone in the room, including the goblins.


	5. Things Change

**Chapter Five: **

**Things Change**

"_**Change is inevitable, and you can either be ready for it…or you can be left behind.**_**" –Unknown **

Colin's smile looked almost painful as he ascended in to the bathroom with his camera still in hand, and two roles of film in his pocket only to be pounced by Dumbledore. "Ah. Mr. Creevey. I would be most interested in seeing the photographs that you have taken tonight."

Colin faltered for a moment, but his smile never wavered. "I'm sorry Headmaster but, I signed a contract with Harry, The Quibbler and the Gringotts Goblins were witnesses." The smile on Dumbledore's face faded for a moment.

"What utter rubbish! You're too young to sign any kind of contract." retorted Snape, with his customary sneer fixed on his face as disdain dripped from every syllable.

Harry chose that moment to intervene on the young man's behalf, "He may be. However, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick both witnessed the terms of the contract, and she signed on his behalf. The Quibbler now has exclusive rights until the first day of my fifth year's term."

Colin was suddenly grinning like an Azkaban escapee. "I'm going to get my pictures published!" Colin was not too worried about the money from the deal. He was already rich from the Basilisk. "I am now the only person allowed to take Harry's picture! I would have paid any amount of money for this opportunity!"

"You would have signed over your soul," commented Professor McGonagall, "if Harry had asked you for it." Her dry tone held the barest trace of humor. "Is there a problem Headmaster?"

Thinking on his feet, he redirected her line of inquiry, hoping to deflect the somewhat unwanted attention. "We were just discussing Mr. Creevey's contract and why you felt that there was no need to inform me of the business negotiations?"

"I felt confident in my ability to handle the negotiations and Mr. Creevey has the opportunity to turn a beloved hobby into a career for one Galleon. He will receive accreditation for his work and payment as a percentage of sales." She turned her eyes on Snape for a moment. "Harry actions in the past prove that his honor and integrity are beyond common reproach – unlike some."

Amongst the last to emerge from the underground were Harry, Hermione and Luna deep in conversation with Griphook. Dumbledore was only able to hear snippets of the conversation and was left wondering what they where up to, inside his castle, "...within an hour?"

"…geomancers…simple enough….our own magi for some of the other enchantments…"

"What kind?" asked Hermione. They drifted close enough to the headmaster for him to overhear snatches of conversation.

"Chronological…" said Griphook, "…secrets of the Goblin Nation, and are not mine to share," he turned to Harry.

Harry shrugged easily. "I won't pretend to not be curious, but if it's not your secret, it's not your secret." Hermione pouted in protest at the knowledge that seemed to be slipping away from her. Harry just laughed and yanked one of her curls, causing her to swat his hands away and stick her tongue out at him.

He flicked her nose, and she poked him in the chest playfully. "You watch it Potter." She said warningly, a smile clear on her face. Harry held up his hands in surrender. "My apologies, Miss." He drawled in return. They shared a look and burst into laughter, as everyone else watched on with smiles. Well, everyone else except Dumbledore and Snape, but no one paid them attention for the moment.

They stopped as Griphook addressed the wizard standing before them. "Headmaster Dumbledore, I trust that you are aware that the Champions accommodations and training grounds are for the champion to choose. Mr. Potter has chosen, and Gringotts will be outfitting the Chamber of Secrets as his the site for his residence for the duration of the tournament." The Goblin smiled without showing teeth, "It would be an exercise in poor judgment for any to attempt to circumvent the wards and other protections for as a goblin champion, goblin law will be enforced in the protection of his residence."

The headmaster proceeded to spend over an hour, cautiously probing the protections in place. Whatever barrier had prevented him and Severus from descending had vanished, but upon exiting at the bottom of the stairs, Dumbledore found himself facing four of the Honor Guard.

They were standing at the far end of the torch light corridor that lead he presumed, to the chamber itself. He drew his wand cautiously, and was quick to note that the Goblin drew their weapons with equal caution. A few probing and scanning charms later, the pair retreated upon confirming that the defenses were exactly as Griphook had said.

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of classes that Harry found himself very distracted in due to the blend of questions and insults that assaulted him. The only two lessons where nobody dared say anything snide or interrupt were Defense against the Dark Arts and Transfigurations because nobody wanted to wind up as a Malfoy-like ferret or cross the Scottish transfiguration professor.

Hermione and Harry escorted Luna from her last class of the day to her dormitory. Before she could pack, she had to sort through a pile of hastily returned belongings. "Seems like everyone who took something has returned it." There was a dreamy quality to her voice as if she hadn't minded any of it. The slight shift in Harry's posture made it clear that he was not happy.

The pair had been standing guard as she packed her trunk, but Harry left them to stand at the top of the stairs overlooking the very full common room. Harry set off a bang from his wand and all Ravenclaws looked up at him uneasily, especially as they could see the anger clear on his face. "If _anyone_ and I do mean anyone, from any house, age, blood status, family, or gender, tries to harm my friends, especially Luna, in any way, shape, or form, I will _personally_ deal with them."

Luna had finished shrinking her trunk and dropped it in her pocket. "I'm ready." They left without another word or a backward glance to the very edgy students of Ravenclaw house, who collectively released the breath they were holding as their common room door slammed.

They were met at the entrance to their new home by Griphook, who took great delight in playing tour guide from the magically expanded entrance hall onwards. "Goblins believe that the best place to prepare an offense, or conduct a defense is underground, where everything can be used to aid you. Your quarters are secure as Gringotts itself." He directed them to their respective suites and bade the tired teenager's goodnight. He stepped in to the floo and returned to the bank where he had a progress report to write for the council.

Feeling as thought it'd be better to get it over with sooner rather than later, Harry left his room, called goodbye to the girls, and exited up through the second floor bathroom. Wandering through the corridors, Harry thought. '_If I were a Ravenclaw…where would I be?_' And then the answer hit him, it was rather obvious. The library. Hurrying up to the corridor that led to the library, Harry came around the corner and saw a familiar head of wavy obsidian hair.

Walking up behind her, Harry saw that she was struggling under a stack of books. He grinned, "Here, let me carry some of these for you." Harry offered, coming in front of her. He quickly steadied the stack as he had startled her when he spoke, and grabbed a majority of the books easily, leaving her to only carry two small ones.

She looked at him and her eyes widened the very slightest. Harry's opinion of her raised a few notches as her eyes didn't make the usual trail up to his scar. He smiled. "Hi, you're Isabelle, right?" Harry asked. She nodded suspiciously.

"I'm –"

"I know who you are, Potter." Isabelle cut him off. Harry blinked and his cheeks slightly. He backtracked and sighed, shifting the books to rest on his hip.

"Look…I know you've undoubtedly heard some…unpleasant things about me, but…just give me a chance." Harry said softly. Isabelle had certainly heard many things about _the_ Harry Potter, but looking into his wide emerald green eyes, she couldn't resist and nodded.

He shifted the book again and stuck out a hand with a crooked grin. Isabelle would never admit that that grin made her knees weak for a second. "Hello, I'm Harry Potter, it's nice to meet you." Harry said happily. Isabelle couldn't help but smile back, and Harry was having a similar problem with his knees. She was so beautiful.

"Likewise, Isabelle Cantrine." Isabelle said. Suddenly, Harry looked incredibly nervous. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, making it twice as messy, and unknowingly making himself appear more appealing than Isabelle was willing to admit.

"Err… I haven't done this before so sorry if it comes out wrong…but Isabelle, would you like to go on a date with me?" Harry finally said. Isabelle stared at him, and raised an eyebrow, noticing how his cheeks flushed a bit more. She thought it was cute. Isabelle didn't show it, but she was incredibly surprised that Harry had asked her out. She was just a normal Ravenclaw girl, nothing special, and certainly not that Hermione Granger he spent so much time with.

Smiling gently, Isabelle nodded, and grinned when Harry blew out a relieved breath. "That's great! I was thinking we could go to the Hogsmeade trip together…if you want?" Harry asked as they began walking.

"That's sounds cool, are you sure…Hermione won't mind?" Isabelle asked, giving him a sideways look. Harry snorted.

"Of course not. Like she told Ronald that morning, she's like my sister, nothing more." Harry replied. Isabelle shrugged. They spent the next fifteen minutes walking slowly and talking about anything and everything, including the fight the other morning. Harry admitted that that was when he noticed her because of her beautiful eyes.

He grinned to himself as she blushed prettily, and vowed to make that happen more often, something he repeated when he made her laugh. They learned a whole lot about each other on that walk, but as they stopped in front of the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower, Harry turned to Isabelle and sighed.

"Listen Isabelle, I…have _a lot_ of enemies," Harry emphasized, "and I want you to know that if this does turn into…something more, you could be targeted too…" He was cut off as Isabelle leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. The skin she had made contact with burned pleasantly.

"You're sweet Harry, and incredibly cute when you blush. But I'm a big girl, and I can handle anything those idiots can throw at me, alright?" Isabelle insisted. Harry grinned and nodded. "Then I'll see you tomorrow?" She asked. Harry nodded and leaned forward. He kissed her forehead lightly, and waited until she was safely in the common room before walking back towards the second floor bathroom.

Upon returning to the common area in the Chamber, Luna gave him a knowing grin. "How do you seem to know everything?" Harry asked exasperatedly, but with a growing smile. Hermione just laughed and shook her head.

"Well?" She prompted. Apparently, Luna had explained about his fascination with Isabelle. Harry grinned happily, and the girls were happy to see him that way.

"We're going to the next Hogsmeade trip together." Harry said. They talked about random things after that before heading off to their different rooms.

Half an hour later, Harry was leafing through a book when there was a knock at the door. "Come in," he said, placing the book on the bedside table. He was surprised to see Luna.

"Luna? Is everything alright?"

She seemed unsure of herself. "That's just it Harry…. I don't know." she sat at the foot of the bed, and just stared at the far wall for a moment, composing herself as Harry pretended not to notice her wiping away a stray tear. "I just… want to say thank you. You can't know how much this, means to me…"

"Actually I do," Harry replied quietly, "I don't know what everyone else thinks or knows… even Hermione… I've not had the chance to tell her about Privet Drive."

"That where you live with your muggle relatives?" he nodded, and she shook her head the moment he started to speak. "I don't want to know. Ok… that is a lie. I do want to know but Hermione should know first. She's been your best friend for years, Harry, and she has more of a right to know that I do… even if we do have some things in common." He blinked, just as she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "That's a story for another time, maybe. But, thank you all the same. Good night Harry."

She was out the door, and it clicked softly as it closed. He was lost in thought, wondering exactly what she meant by that… and wondered what that meant until Hermione came to say goodnight, and then left.

In the village of Little Hangleton, the Riddle House was a monument of crumbling ruin and decay, instead of what it should have been. In one of the few room where the fireplace still worked, the partially restored Dark Lord of Great Britain, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named sat or perhaps more accurately hunched on a large armchair, facing the fireplace. He let the flames ward him against the cold as he waited.

Behind the door was where muggle Frank Bryce had listened in on their plans for the Triwizard Tournament lurked Peter "Wormtail" Pettigrew. Voldemort could feel the man's presence and more importantly, he could smell fear: Wormtail feared bringing his master bad news.

The first part of the plan had worked surprisingly well. They had captured Barty Crouch Senior and released his son from the Imperius Curse. They now had the agent in Hogwarts, who provided the bad news Wormtail bore. "Master, I bring word from your agent," he hesitated, "Potter has used the tournament to his own ends. He has formed an alliance with the Goblins, who are now his sponsors for the tournament… he has been granted partial emancipation and claimed the Potter Family Vault."

Silence stretched out, consuming the minutes in much the way Nagini had consumed the muggle caretaker. Silence was never a good sign, and Peter Pettigrew found himself wondering, yet again, how he could have been so abysmally stupid as to think that being a Death Eater would grant him wealth and power. "You did not foresee this?" he snarled, "_Crucio_!"

He was not sure how long he was under the curse as knives, needles and broken glass set every nerve aflame. A cold clinically detached and distant part of his mind remembered the future of wealth and power he had imagined when he took the Dark Mark.

Instead, he had spent thirteen years as a rat and six months as a nursemaid….


	6. Anger Management

**Chapter Six:**

**Anger Management**

"_**When angry, count to four; when very angry, swear**_**." –Mark Twain**

Harry Potter awoke and instantly, his instincts told him that someone was watching him, watching him closely. His hand slid beneath his pillow, wrapping around his wand when the high-pitched overly excited shout erupted in his ear, "Harry Potter! Sir!"

He knew that voice, almost too well. It belonging to the individual that had haunted his entire second year, nearly gotten him expelled, his arm broken, and then also bore part of the responsibility for said broken arm being deboned by Lockhart. "Dobby…. What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" asked the groggy teen. "I thought you were working in the castle kitchens…"

"I was, sir! Griphook spoke to Dobby yesterday about working for Harry Potter for the tournament! Sir! Dobby works for Harry Potter now, sir!" The awe and delight in the elf's voice brought a glimmer of a smile to Harry's face. He was wondering just how much of a chuckle and chortle Griphook was having right this instant.

However, it was hard to stay grumpy around such an excited and happy creature and he sat up and stretched, only to find his clothes neatly lain out across the back and seat of a nearby chair. Smacking his lips, he ambled across the room to the ensuite bathroom for a quick shower before his morning workout until he glanced at his watch and groaned; it was much too early to be up. He made a mental note to have Dobby start waking him every day.

Half an hour later, a freshly showered and dressed Harry headed out of his room, figuring he could skip his workout for just one day. The residence was already showing signs of life, in the form of Luna and Colin in conversation over the pictures scattered across the dining table in a haphazard yet organized manner. Hermione watched the two with the hint of a smile on her face. "Morning, you sleep alright?"

Harry would need to speak to Griphook about adding Colin to his retinue formally, and to arrange regular private instruction to teach him, and the rest of his retinue if they were interested. While he did not have end of year tests to worry about, the others did and even he had OWLs next year. He smiled and nodded, flicking a strand of her hair. She grinned and playfully shoved his shoulder.

"We're just waiting for the Quibbler to arrive, but while we wait, just look at these," Luna handed Harry one of the many short stacks, "Colin's got a great eye for this!" The younger Gryffindor blushed at the praise, and Harry decided not to add anything.

The Ravenclaw had lost none of her dreamy expression as her quill scratched its way across the parchment, "My father was thrilled when he heard that I'd gotten him exclusive access to you. We're considered small time, next to the Prophet because we do more fun, jokey stuff. But this is our chance to drop that kind of thing and become a serious paper."

Letting them carry on, he stretched. "I'm going up to breakfast early, guys." Harry said. Luna shot him an incredibly smug and knowing smile, and Harry groaned.

"You're going to meet Isabelle before breakfast, aren't you?" Luna asked, laughing along with Colin and Hermione. Harry flushed and huffed. He nodded and left to the laughing of his friends. Leaving the residence and then out through the second floor bathroom, Harry hurried up to Ravenclaw Tower and leaned against the wall beside the entrance, his flaming cheeks having returned to normal.

He was only waiting for about ten minutes, when Isabelle exited through the door and he pushed off from the wall. She smiled brightly upon seeing him, and Harry smiled back without even trying. Unsure of how to greet the girl he was hoping to date, Harry settled on kissing her forehead again, and she kissed his cheek in return.

"Morning Isabelle, I was wondering if you wanted me to escort you to breakfast, and possibly join me and my friends at the Gryffindor Table." Harry inquired hopefully. Isabelle smiled even brighter.

"That's sounds great, come on then." She said. They set off slowly towards the Great Hall and Harry gentlemanly carried her bag for her, she looked up at him and slid her warm hand in his. Harry grinned down at her.

They walked hand in hand, talking about various things or building on what they had learned about each other the previous night, and right outside the Great Hall, they were met by Hermione, Luna, and Colin. Harry led Isabelle over to them.

"Hey guys. Luna, I know you know her, but Hermione, Colin, this is Isabelle Cantrine." Harry introduced. They all greeted her and shook hands. Isabelle did quite well in not appearing nervous, but Harry slight sensed it and squeezed her hand in support. She squeezed it in return and they entered the almost empty Great Hall and sat at the Gryffindor Table.

Grabbing a quick breakfast, Hermione immediately engaged Isabelle in a conversation, though she and Harry still had their hands linked on the table. While the two girls talked, Luna and Colin spoke to him.

"Harry, Griphook floo-called this morning. He's already taken the liberty of contacting Professor Lupin. He will be arriving this evening. He wanted to know if it would be alright to bring a dog named... Snuffles. Hermione told him it was ok though." Luna said. Harry shot a quick smile at Hermione, who had glanced at him as she had one ear on their conversation.

When the rest of the school entered the Hall and saw them all there, Harry sighed and gestured for them to leave. He didn't feel like having the stares and whispers ruining his happy mood. All eyes were glued to him as they walked from the Great Hall, and he heard many furious whispers about him and Isabelle holding hands. He finally found out what most of the stares were about when Colin handed him a copy of the Quibbler.

He scanned the headline:

**Gringott's Champion Harry Potter**

The pictures highlighted not only the head of the Basilisk, but also himself, Hermione and Luna standing just in front of its slack jaws and lolling tongue. A series of pictures further down the page showed the goblin apothecaries at work and gave a better indication as to the size of the beast. The article was short, almost functionary given that the pictures were worth several thousand words.

_Harry Potter, the only known survivor of the Avada Kedavra curse has been bestowed with more titles and accolades than he is years old. Interestingly enough, Mr. Potter or "just call me Harry," shuns the media, limelight and above all else, public scrutiny._

_However, his involuntary participation in the Triwizard Tournament means that privacy is no longer an option for the fourteen-year-old wizard who has been granted partial emancipation for the duration of the tournament. However, Harry had only this to say, "The responsible adults, my guardians have failed me for perhaps the last time. Someone entered me against my will in to a competition for adults and all those responsible adults insist I must compete as part of a binding magical contract."_

_The young man has already faced down a Cerberus (details on page 2), a Basilisk (page 3), and the feared Dementors of Azkaban (page 4) during his three years at Hogwarts. This reporter can confirm the validity of these statements, and if one has any doubts, ask the Goblins. Harry Potter, having acknowledged that Mr. Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff House as the Hogwarts Triwizard Champion represents the "Urzk-Khou Garabash Huzkagai" or Gringotts in the Triwizard Tournament._

_His first act of finding a sponsor, his second was to contact the Quibbler and grant us exclusivity rights and access for the duration of the Triwizard tournament. His third was to sell his Basilisk – by right of conquest – and arrange compensation to be paid to the monster's victims, and for substantial donations to be made to muggle, wizarding and goblin charities of a worthy cause as determined by Senior Accounts Manager Griphook of Gringotts._

_Gringotts will also be serving a number of writs on Mr. Potter's behalf to crack down on those minting gold through illegal use of his image and name. "My name, my image, my life story goes in to products that I know nothing about and have no association to me. It ends now. The only publication with the rights to my picture and my story is the Quibbler. Anyone else can face the wrath of Gringotts Wizarding Bank." He added, "And good luck to them," as an afterthought, perhaps even a warning to those who have exploited him in the past._

_We at the Quibbler are understandably delighted with this arrangement and believe that it was gold well spent, and look forward to long and mutually beneficial relationship with Mr. Potter. The Quibbler wishes him well for the coming tournament_

Classes that day were somewhat tense for the new group. For one, Harry was amazed that he and Isabelle even had classes together, and he had never noticed her. He figured it had to do with him being too busy trying to not die. Harry and Hermione were somewhat used to the attention or lack thereof but Luna was getting something akin to a wide berth from her housemates, along with Isabelle, as they realized just whom their friends were. Nevertheless, the day progressed without incident even if they were the subject of numerous stares from the staff table.

Seated at the Slytherin house table, Draco Malfoy was pondering his next move. The split between Potty and Weasley seemed to be permanent. The Mudblood had sided with the famous one so it made sense that Weasley was on his own. Even Draco had grudgingly admitted that standing up to Snape and then Dumbledore had won respect from a great many of the students, including those within his own house. Then, acknowledging that Diggory was Hogwarts champion had swayed more support and then there was the "Goblin Alliance."

Things took a decided turn for the worse as the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs he had working for him, stopped by the table and dropped the galleons on the table, along with a small sack, "Fifty badges and you can have them because we don't want your money!" Either they respect Potter more than him, or they did not fear him enough. Neither one was good.

Harry had practically had Isabelle glued to his side all day, not that she minded in the least, and the other three had gotten use to her rather quickly, they had taken to her warmly as well. She was as much a part of the group as any of them, and so Harry had no problem letting her hang out in the residence.

That evening the group was having a relaxed, easy night, perusing several different tomes from the residence library when Dobby popped in unannounced, "Harry Potter sir, the goblins report that Professor Lupin and Snuffles are waiting outside."

He turned to Griphook, Luna, and Isabelle and took a deep breath. "There are a lot of secrets that Hermione, Ron and I used to have. We discussed it," obviously referring to Harry and Hermione. Ron was still on House arrest and would remain there for a while yet, "and agreed that you deserve to know the truth about some of the lies in the wizarding world. Just… well do you trust me? I mean us?"

Isabelle was the first to answer. She grabbed Harry's hand and smiled at him. "I trust you Harry, and…I want you to trust me too." She said. Harry grinned and kissed her forehead as usual. Luna smiled, the same dreamy smile, "I trust you Harry…" It no longer fooled the group that the dreamy smiles and distant, almost vacant looks in her eyes were more of an act, armor that kept the hurt she felt from showing through.

They all watched as a massive black dog bounded into the room and flattened Harry before attempting to drown him in slobber. Hermione buckled in laughter as the evening became one of reunions between Remus and Harry and to an extent Hermione "Ms. Lovegood," said Remus, "Harry did not mention that in addition to being a close friend that you were a strikingly beautiful young lady as well."

She blushed and found that she liked their former Defense against the Dark Arts professor even more, especially since he simply accepted Luna without comment. Simple acceptance was something she had not known from anyone but her father. And then Remus turned to Isabelle.

"Isabelle Cantrine, right? I believe I taught you last year, as well." Remus said. Isabella nodded with a soft smile that Remus returned. "Though Harry never mentioned being in the company of yet another beautiful, young lady." Isabelle chuckled.

"Harry and I just started…" Isabelle looked for a word, "hanging out recently, so it's alright. Nice to see you again, Professor." Within an hour, the group was completely at ease with each other and Professor Remus Lupin was private instructor and tutor to the Gringotts Champion and his retinue.

"Sirius," he said clearly, talking to the massive black shaggy dog, "You are amongst friends here."

When the unregistered Animagus arched his back and stretched, Hermione slapped a hand over Luna's mouth to stop her from screaming, and Harry noticed Isabelle instantly reach for her wand, her eyes narrowed. He squeezed her hand and shook his head. She looked at him in confusion, but she had agreed to trust him, so she let go of her wand and relaxed.

"All who stand within the residence are welcome as family and friends." He turned to Luna, "Luna… you've just met the Quibbler's next major story."

"Harry," said Luna, eying the shaggy haired man, a touch of fear in her voice, "That is Sirius Black." Isabelle had recognized him instantly from the Wanted Ministry posters. Then the possibilities dawned, "This is Sirius Black!" She grabbed a parchment and quill and began asking a dozen questions a second.

Luna was aware that the Quibbler printing Sirius Black's story would cause more than a little trouble with the ministry. Luna decided she would have to speak to Harry about allowing her father to visit, because this was one story with vast repercussions. It would redefine how people viewed the Quibbler and place them in direct opposition to the Ministry and its fourteen-year long cover up.

Just before curfew, Harry had escorted Isabelle back to Ravenclaw Tower and kissed her forehead, getting a kiss on the cheek in response and had waited until she was safely inside before returning to the residence. They talked last night and decided to wait until lunchtime before entering the castle. They were not worried about missing some classes, with the facilities they had here and now a live-in professor, catching up with anything they missed would require some hard work, but not too much.

Harry came down to breakfast to find his godfather, Hermione, and Isabelle waiting on him. Apparently, Hermione had gone extra early to get her from Ravenclaw Tower to join them. He gave Isabelle a good morning kiss on the forehead and succeeded in not blushing, though Isabelle did.

"My breakfast doesn't need any more sugar. So just stop it there," said Sirius, the beginning of a smile on his face. They were a good match he thought, and after talking to her the previous night, he knew that Harry's parents would approve.

Griphook appeared just to check up on things and Harry invited him to stay for breakfast. Despite the fact that the Goblin had already eaten, he sat and helped himself to a cup of tea content to let the conversation wash over him. Sirius wanted to know what Harry's plan was for the tournament, and his brutal assessment of the situation, "Survive it" gave them all a little something to chew on. Isabelle had grabbed Harry's hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze, earning her a kiss on the temple.

Luna took advantage of the pause, "Harry, could my dad come here and interview Sirius? We should be able to get people asking questions about his imprisonment, which would help him get a trial."

It was Griphook who answered, "Ms. Lovegood, should you print such an interview, the ministry would arrest all of us and interrogate us to find his location. They are desperate to end the "_Black Situation_." The Goblin had actually used air quotes.

Hermione was quick to offer a possible solution, "What about an interview with Harry and me? We've told the ministry the truth at the end of last year, but they didn't' believe it…. Snape had the Minster convinced we were under the effect of a confundus charm. You can report the truth as the result of our interview, and additional research."

Luan looked pensive for a moment, "Could I send Dobby to ask what my father thinks?" The elf was all smiles as he popped to the office of the Quibbler, to arrange a meeting for later the following morning.

Sirius knew he would not be staying for long after the interview. There were just too many risks for everyone and even the Goblins and Gringotts would face censure if discovered. Harry had not liked it, but in the end had accepted his godfather's choice. They exchanged a brief hug, Harry promised to write and the black, grim-like canine vanished in the floo with Griphook by his side.

When the group` left that afternoon, the smiling eye twinkling headmaster ambushed them. He was desperate to avoid being at odds with Harry and wanted to smooth over their damaged relationship. "Harry, I am happy to see you still attend some of your classes." Harry held firm slightly at the subtle rebuke, but said nothing. "But I'm afraid that other students are still my responsibility and I cannot in good conscience allow them to live outside their respective house dormitories."

Harry met the twinkling eyes and though Isabelle placed a hand on his arm, he did not pull his verbal punches. "Responsibilities, eh? Where was your sense of responsibility when it came to giving my godfather a trial?" The boy was gone, replaced by a wizard who had his eyes open.

Hermione realized that he had meant every word about how the adults in his life had not only failed him, but also failed to protect the little family that he had left.

"No charges were brought against my godfather who suffered in Azkaban. Twelve years surrounded by Dementors," Harry shuddered involuntarily, "I know my rights as Champion. I know my responsibilities as Champion – no thanks to you – and I take the well being of my friends, in or out of my retinue, far more seriously than you believe."

There was acidity to his words that left Dumbledore speechless. "I have advisors who think about me and those I care about. You have failed my parents and my godfather and then me. Eleven years alone in a place where I am actively hunted and hated! Eleven years without anyone to tell me who I am or what I really am!" he stopped, trying to fight back the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. "Pick and choose your responsibilities as you please. I will not!"

"Harry there is so much going on at the moment that I feel we could benefit from sitting down and talking to each other, to help clear the air." Harry snarled in frustration and anger, and Isabelle actually grabbed his arm to keep him from attacking the Headmaster. This of course, drew the old man's attention to her, and she defiantly ignored him in favor of whispering calming words to Harry who was clenching his wand tightly.

It was clear that here would be no fence mending for now, and Dumbledore decided that he had a few owls to send, and a few favors to call in, just in case he needed them. Knowledge is power. Dumbledore studied the backs of the teens, and knew he needed something monumental to get back on their good side.

Exempt from end of term tests though he was, that did not mean that Harry was free from the ignominy of certain classes, and that included a wonderful way to spoil the middle of the week. Wednesday saw divination with Sybil Trelawney, where she dramatically predicted his death.

After the three form of death, Harry simply tuned out the rest of the class. Charms went by and Harry's mood improved vastly as he had that class with Isabelle, who sat next to him, causing all sorts of stares and whispers, which the two ignored. It was the afternoon lesson that really grated against his nerves: Double Potions, with the Slytherins, and this time, he had no Isabelle to stop him from pulverizing one of them. The thought was tempting; he needed something to get the excess anger out.

Whereas the Gryffindors had been mostly supportive, some of the Ravenclaws had come around shortly, but most stood stubbornly to their old ways, and continued to target Luna, having added the justification that she was a traitor to their house. This pissed Harry off to know end.

The Hufflepuffs, were unsurprisingly, four square behind their own champion, and clearly were not about to budge in support of Harry which suited him just fine. The Slytherins however, made it clear where they stood. Lining up outside Snape's dungeon, Harry found himself staring down the entire Slytherin 4th years, all of whom bore badges that stated:

Support Cedric Diggory

The REAL Hogwarts Champion!

"You like them, Potter?" drawled Malfoy loudly as Harry approached, "And this isn't all they do – Look!" He pressed his badge and the message vanished, replacing by one that glowed bright green:

Potter stinks!

The Slytherins howled with laughter, but stopped abruptly at what Harry said next. "How much are they? I'll buy one to support Cedric as the Hogwarts Champion. I thought I made it obvious that I was represented by Gringotts, not Hogwarts." Harry said calmly with a raised eyebrow. Hermione smirked.

"I suppose it reflects both the level of intelligence and maturity of Slytherin in general. Cedric is the only Champion for Hogwarts and _"Potter stinks?"_ First Year Ravenclaws help you come up with that?"

Malfoy was looking rather sour as he mockingly extended a badge, "Care to join the winning team, Granger?"

It was her turn to laugh, "Malfoy, the mere presence of a Slytherin in the competition must have made the Goblet toes – if it had any – curl. Even if I wanted to join you, there is no team, to join or support!"

Draco froze up for a second as the Gryffindors burst in to laughter, "Shut up Mudblood!"

Harry's anger, kept very carefully in check by Isabelle, had been building: First against the tournament organizers and then the headmaster, then Snape and now Draco Malfoy seemed to think that he could get his thrills from taking cheap shots. Harry's wand was suddenly in his hand and pointed straight at Draco, who responded in kind, "Go on then, Potter, nobody around to protect you. Do you have the guts? That vaunted Gryffindor courage?"

For a split second, they met each other's eye, and then both of them acted.

"Pediculosis!" shouted Harry

"Densaugeo!" screamed Malfoy.

Snape chose precisely that moment to make his presence felt as the curses intercepted each other and bounced off. Harry's curse struck Goyle in the face; the boy fell to the ground furiously scratching his hair. The curse Harry had used caused the victim to get an extreme case of lice. And Malfoy's unfortunately found a better target than Harry: Hermione.

In moments, her teeth were growing, and it would not be long before they went down past her collar as Snape began his usually arbitrary assignment of punishment. "Detention, Potter!" Harry was not paying attention, "and fifty points from Gryffindor!" oiled the Potions Master.

Harry already had his back on all of them, comforting his best friend as he took two steps away. "Either you get in to my classroom, or I'll make it a hundred points and a week's detention!" he froze in mid-step and met Hermione's eye for the barest of moments.

His wand vibrated, as something green and black slithered downs its length but no one seemed to notice that, focused as they were on Harry's next move. Hermione shook her head and took off, no doubt to the hospital wing. It took every fiber of his being, not to smash the _"Professor_" in the face as he stalked in to what he knew was going to be a very, very long afternoon.


	7. Logic & Objectives

**Chapter Seven:**

**Logic and Objectives**

"_**A truth that's told with bad intent beats all the lies you can invent.**_**" –William Blake**

Fortunately for anyone who would've been on the receiving end of Harry's anger, Colin arrived shortly after the lesson began to pull him Harry out of class for the Weighing of the Wands ceremony where Rita Skeeter hounded him incessantly from the moment he walked in the room.

He stayed quiet, well aware of the terms of his agreement with the Quibbler. Rita however, did not know when to quit and she pushed him too far. Harry drew his wand and rounded on the reporter. The other three champions simply stared as his wand rose. Karkaroff and Maxime went for their wands only to witness Harry summon one of Gringotts messenger lightning sprites.

Within minutes, a quartet of Goblins warriors with their blades drawn stormed the room and detained Ms. Skeeter at blade point, and forcibly removed the reporter. Everyone, Mr. Ollivander included were shocked as Harry stood by and let one of the goblins clobber both Rita and her cameraman across the back of the head with the flat of his axe.

"Guess my wand still works," thought Harry as he met the mixed stares that ranged from surprise and shock to mild amusement, "Bint had it coming," said Harry by way of explanation before running to catch up with the others for dinner.

Dinner was a quiet affair with three Weasleys, Isabelle and Luna – or as quiet and safe as possible with Prank Masters seated at your table. Hermione was still in the Hospital Wing. Fortunately, Isabelle and Luna were calming influences and the jokes of the twins tuned out the gossiping, whisperings, and finger pointing.

To Harry's immense surprise but amusement, Isabelle even gave the three pranksters very original ideas for pranks. The twins had turned to him with wide, awe-filled eyes, "If you don't ask her out, we will!" they had whispered in unison. Harry laughed and shook his head. All was well until Professor McGonagall descended upon his end of the Gryffindor table under orders to move Isabelle and Luna back to the Ravenclaw table.

"Professor McGonagall," said Harry evenly, "I've examined the rules and regulations of Hogwarts, and no where does it say that students must sit at their house tables." A glance towards the staff table confirmed that Dumbledore was watching, and it amused and annoyed Harry that the headmaster did not seem to have anything better to do than stare at him. Harry blinked and grinned, almost evilly, "Professor Flitwick! May I have a few minutes?"

Although Luna was unwilling to admit to anything, Harry's brief explanation of the situation caused more than one raised eyebrow at the Gryffindor table as the diminutive professor glared over at his own house table."I will conduct a formal investigation in to this matter Harry. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I only wish… it had been brought up sooner."

Luna was quickest off the mark, "You didn't know, sir, and I never said anything to you. I had ample opportunity over the years." the strange, ethereal quality in her voice had swept to the fore, lending her words an air of compassionate understanding, something Harry could very well relate to."Now that you know, you'll do the right thing. That's what matters most."

Professor Flitwick nodded his thanks and turned to Harry, "Mr. Potter, though I cannot condone your participation in the tournament, I offer to you my services as an instructor, should you require them."

Professor McGonagall found herself in agreement, considering the sheer absurdity of Albus Dumbledore. No fourteen-year-old boy would be able to compete in a tournament against not only those older than him but who also held the edge in spell lore, magical ability and physical strength. "I have no knowledge of the tasks in this tournament Harry. And though it embarrasses me to say that I did not think of it sooner, I extend you the same offer as an instructor in transfiguration or any other area you think I may be of some assistance."

"Thank you both professors, for you kind offers. I am," Harry said with a grin, "a great many things but I'm not stupid, despite what Professor Snape chooses to believe. I most willingly accept." He spared a glance towards the Ravenclaw table and they seemed to realize that they were in trouble, a particular group of girls that had Cho Chang as their ringleader. He amusedly noticed Isabelle grinning evilly beside him, and she whispered something to the twins that had them matching her grin with evil smirks of their own.

He caught parts of it.

"…in her hair?"

"…screaming, maybe permanent."

"…they'll be fine…or not."

That last one was from Isabelle, who didn't care for Cho or her gang one bit. Harry felt a rush of feeling for the dark-haired girl beside him. She was beautiful, intelligent, she and his family and friends liked each other immensely, and she was just all around perfect in his eyes. He knew what he would do later.

Albus seemed to have snap-apparated across the hall, suddenly standing quite close to them, "I would also like to offer my services…" He was suddenly aware that he had just committed a tactical error. The boy's eyes darkened and flashed a dangerous shade of green for an instant. There was a subtle twitching in his right hand as well, as if he longed to go for his wand. Subtle though the motion was, no one could have missed it.

"No." You could have dropped a pin in the Great Hall, and heard it land in the aftermath of that single word. "You've done quite enough already," growled Harry. He sneered, "Under the _guise_ of good intentions, ultimately making Hogwarts unsafe for anyone, not just me."

That hit home, and the headmaster was actually hurt by that remark, "Harry, I agree that we have had our differences, but how can you say that?"

"Let's see," replied Harry, "On the subject of _"defense professors_," Harry copied Griphook and employed air quotes, "The first tried to kill me, the second tried to obliviate me." He raised his voice as well as his anger, "The most recent one has used an Imperius Curse on me as part of his idea of _"Constant Vigilance_," Can someone hit me with a Cruciatus Curse so I can have the Unforgivable Curse Collector Set?"

Despite the silencing charms at the staff table, the hand signals and gestures made it clear that the Headmaster was going to have his hands full until well after breakfast.

Sitting at the Ravenclaw table, Fleur Delacour realized that she had sold the young man short. Mr. Potter was a powerful handsome wizard, very, very wealthy with a temper and anger management issues – everyone had heard about what had happened outside Snape's Dungeon.

With her Veela blessing, she felt confident that not only could she wrap him around her little finger, but convince him that the Beauxbaton Academy in France would be perfect to finish his education. Nothing could stand in the way of even a part Veela with an eye for a mate, not even that dark-haired bint he was holding hands with. Unfortunately, Fleur didn't know how wrong she was on many accounts, especially when it came to Harry and Isabelle.

Ronald Weasley was blind to all the intrigue around Hogwarts, involving professors, students, headmasters and Veela, on House arrest until November 18, one week before the first task. House Arrest for two weeks! The redhead was fuming, almost apoplectic with rage.

He was unsurprised to find that McGonagall had sided with Harry, but to have both his parents turn on him as well! Was the entire world against him suddenly? The narrow-minded young man could not even contemplate the possibility that all of the injustices were the product of his own messed-up perception.

He reasoned that Hermione was not and would never be the most attractive of witches - Lavender Brown, Padma and Parvati, Cho Chang, Daphne Greengrass all came to mind - but she should have waited for him to ask her out, date a bit, snog a lot and then move on. Now Potter had taken her from him.

Potter had taken everything he had ever seen or wanted and put in beyond his grasp. He clenched his fists in frustration and punched the wall, adding another crater to it. Something else he blamed Potter for: His confinement to his room as if sentenced to Azkaban.

The bottom line, for Ron, was that everything he wanted had been stolen or denied by Harry Bloody Prat James Fucking Potter! The same person had turned even his own family against him. He didn't even contemplate the fact that Hermione had told him that she and Harry were just friends. He didn't care. Though he was unwilling to admit it, it seemed as if Draco was right, and what made that worse, right all along.

Peter Pettigrew was not having a good day. He had hopes that delivering nothing but good news would allow him to escape Cruciatus free at least this once, "Master, I bring word from your servant. He says that Potter's relationship with the headmaster has taken a dramatic turn for the worst and that the boy no longer trusts him. They even had an argument in public."

The dry chuckle eased some of Peter's fears, as his master was in a good mood, something he preferred to a bad one, "It took him longer than I thought it would, but he has finally done it. This should not only make it an interesting year but also make out plans that much easier to carry out. The plan, takes priority over everything!" concluded Voldemort.

Peter was beginning to count his blessings when he remembered that when dealing with the Dark Lord, one should not put all their eggs in to one basket as the Cruciatus curse slammed him to the floor where he writhed in agony for only a few moments, "Remember Wormtail. If you have lied to me, you will suffer my full wrath and displeasure."

"Yes master," was all Peter could croak out before crawling from the room, wondering why he had been foolish enough to become a death eater, and why he now still stayed, when he could just run, and never look back.

There were almost no bright moments, or positive highlights on this particularly trying day, for Harry as he scrubbed the cauldrons out without magic in the potions dungeon. He found himself strangely enjoying the task as it let him burn off a great deal of excess energy, and vent some of his frustrations and anger.

By the time, he was done, and Snape was satisfied, the tired teenager wanted nothing more than to retreat to his quarters and collapsed on his bed, but he had something more important to do. Hurrying up to Ravenclaw Tower, Harry knocked until someone opened the door; it was a first year girl. She stared up at Harry with wide eyes, though Harry was happy to note that they weren't fearful.

"Hi, can you please go get Isabelle? She's a fourth year…" Harry said. The girl nodded, and closed the door. Less than a minute later, Isabelle came to the entrance, her hair messily pulled up in a half-bun, half-pony tail. Harry grinned.

"You look cute like that, rather relaxed…" Harry complimented honestly. Isabelle blushed and rolled her eyes. She saw Harry take a breath and then he unleashed those smoldering emerald on her, and she gripped the door frame to not buckle under their gaze.

"Isabelle, we've been hanging out a lot lately, and we still have that date to go on, but…I was wondering…if you wanted to officially be my girlfriend…" Harry asked. Isabelle said nothing, but as she leapt onto Harry in a tight hug, he got his answer. Pulling back slightly, they rested their foreheads together, sapphire staring into emerald. And they finally closed the distance, their lips coming together.

The kiss was soft and sweet, and full of feeling and promise, and both of them loved it. It only lasted for a moment, but at the end, both fourth years were panting with large grins on their face. Stepping back slightly, Isabelle gave him one last kiss. She smirked. "Good night, boyfriend."

Harry smirked back. "Good night, girlfriend." He said. She snorted and retreated back into Ravenclaw Tower; while Harry positively drifted blissfully back down to the residence, not even bothering to say good night or even to change.

Harry slept deeply and dreamlessly unaware of the danger lurking in the wings…


	8. War and New Additions

_**A/N: Alright guys, I get it, my story is similar to other stories, particularly Can't Have It Both Ways, by Robst. I haven't read that story, and I actually cited the source of my inspiration in the AN of the first chapter.**_

_**Despite that, I actually had a conversation with Robst himself today, and he explicitly gave me his permission anyway. We cleared up any confusion, and that should be good enough for you all. I do not condone plagiarism, and that wasn't my intention writing this fic. **_

_**Yes, it is very, very similar to his story and the story of MY inspiration, which is Years At War by Eristarisis (I also have permission), but as I make more changes, it will deviate more and more. I hope that clears up everything.**_

_**~Belle**_

**Chapter Eight:**

**War and New Additions**

"_**There are the people you've known forever. Who like...know you...in this way that other people can't. Because they've seen you change. They've let you change." -Angela**_

The day dawned and Harry was confused, puzzled almost when Hermione was nowhere. He had completed his morning run, taken a shower and had formally added Isabelle to his retinue, along with moving her things into another room near his, and gotten his morning kiss. There was, in his mind simply no better way to start any day of the week. Luna, and Colin – the other recent full time addition to his retinue – were content to watch him search the Residence until finally Luna took pity on him, "Harry, you've no experience with women." She pronounced.

He looked to his girlfriend for assistance, but she smirked and shook her head. She was with Luna. He sighed and smiled sheepishly. "Is it that obvious?" He asked. Luna smiled. "Am I in trouble?" Luna's smiled broadened. "What did I do?" Luna's smile quickly vanished and she shook her head exasperatedly.

Isabelle gently cuffed him on the back of the head, and he faced her indignantly. "Harry, you really have no idea do you?" She asked. He looked hopelessly lost, and Isabelle couldn't resist pecking his delicious lips quickly.

"Harry…Hermione was injured yesterday, and you, well, you never checked on her… You're supposed to be her pseudo- brother and it hurts when your brother doesn't seem to care…" she left her sentence unfinished and watched as it all fell in to place for the young wizard.

It was the look on his face, he didn't have to say it, he was already begging for it before he could open his mouth. "Start with an apology, then something caring…" Luna offered, glancing at her watch, "I have to get to class."

Harry quickly turned to his girlfriend who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow, clear amusement in her eyes. And then he did the unthinkable, he pulled out the puppy-dog eyes. He leaned down towards her, his eyes wide and mournful, and whispered to her, his minty breath washing over her, making her dizzy.

"Please love, help me…" He pleaded. She unconsciously leaned forward to capture his mouth, but he leaned back a bit out of her reach, she pouted and grabbed the front of his robe, pulling him to her in a kiss that had them both mindless for a moment. Finishing, both were panting, but Isabelle answered. "Alright, here's what you do…"

Fortunately for him, he had enough help from Isabelle to get the right things before he dragged his thoughts, worry and concern from his pseudo-sister to the day's assignments - and he had quite a few. From Moony, he had three years of charms, transfiguration and defense to get through. Griphook left something a single, slim volume entitled "Magic and War: The Path" that he would have to read, understand, and summarize the key points of each chapter before their next meeting.

It was just after five in the evening when Harry dispatched the note by lightning sprite, and then made his way to his bedroom for a shower and change of clothes. Defense had been easy enough to review - there was only one year of work to do. Charms and transfiguration had not taken as long as he had thought thanks to the notes he had managed to create and then had Hermione check through from previous years. He still however, had the entire book from Griphook, waiting for him, but that could wait.

Meanwhile, in the Hospital Wing, Hermione had slept after having her teeth fixed, and then shrunk slightly to be perfect, until she felt magic washing over her, and then she instinctively fought it, placing it in recess. She received the note from Harry and grinned, she should've known he wouldn't forget about her. She was released from the hospital and walked down to the residence, and then entered.

"Hey Remus... Snuffles." Hermione said mockingly. Sirius stuck his tongue out at her, and had to dodge a swat from Remus. She gave them questioning looks, but they simply pointed to her room. Walking to her door, she paused before opening the door, switching on the light, and being shocked into silence. Every inch of the room was covered with her favorite flowers, Asiatic Lilies, but she hadn't seen any since her childhood as they were rare where she lived.

There was a human-sized get-well card signed by Harry, Isabelle, Colin, Luna, Remus, Sirius, Ginny, the Twins, and even Griphook; and then there was a stack of brand new books on the wizarding world that she hadn't read yet. Her eyes filled with tears as she heard a voice behind her.

"Hermione, I am so sorry I didn't come visit you last night, I had detention and then-" Harry's apology was cut off as Hermione grabbed him in a hug tight enough to rival Molly's. He patted her back, until she stepped back and looked up at him with a beaming smile.

"Oh thank you Harry, this is all beautiful and so thoughtful. You are amazing, you know that? A truly wonderful brother." Hermione said happily. Harry snorted as Isabelle came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Well, I had some help from a very beautiful lady. I think her name was…Isabelle?" Harry tapped his chin mockingly. He yelped as Isabelle pinched his bum, and he glared at her indignantly, sending Isabelle and Hermione into a fit of laughter. Afterwards, the three retreated to Harry's room.

He lay on his bed with Magic and War, Isabelle lied next to him reading a book on advanced Transfiguration, while Hermione was sprawled across the couch in his room, reading one of the books he had gotten her.

He was reading Magic and War, and found it simply fascinating, intertwining history, culture, and how it all tied to the Goblin's relationship with magic It was perhaps two hundred or so pages, but it was fascinating reading. It explained how magic, simply is. Light magic or dark magic does not exist.

It is the caster's intention that gives magic its good or evil attributes. Even that was a vague business. The simplest of levitation spells – wingardium leviosa – could levitate a person off the side of a building. The Imperius curse could prevent someone from committing suicide. Avada Kedavra grants a quick and painless death to the terminal ill, the grievously wounded, or to simply to cull livestock.

The bottom line was that magic exists and can be tapped by a wizard or witch or any other creature - not necessarily human - and bent to their intent. Intent made magic "light" or "dark." It helped clear several misconceptions from the young man's mind, but also fudged the boundaries of morality somewhat.

The next day, Harry knocked on Isabelle's door, and she answered, wearing pajamas and her hair looking as wild and messy as Harry's normally did. Harry grinned.

"Get dressed, something nice, not too dressy though. I'll be waiting." Harry said before giving her a quick kiss, and retreating to his own room. About an hour later, Isabelle emerged from her room wearing black skinny jeans, a loose off the shoulder shirt, and black dragon hide boots. Harry thought she looked amazing, especially as her hair hung down in slightly messy curls that looked just right on her.

He offered her his arm, and they left the residence. The two exchanged a brief kiss as they wandered out on to the grounds of the castle. "Where are we going?" Isabelle asked.

Harry grinned. "The Hogsmeade trip would be fun as a date, but I figured our first date should be more special, so I thought we'd take a walk along the lake, enjoy the sunset," he grinned, "To start." They did just that, taking time to enjoy a quiet walk, along the lake, following a candle lit path that terminated in a small glen where there was a table setup for a quiet romantic candle lit dinner for two.

Nothing simpler or more complicated than a proper first date without the glare and scrutiny of the media, without comments, without people pointing and staring and gawking. Suffice to say the evening was a memory for them both to treasure, one summon a powerful Patronus.

Two days later, Harry returned from his morning circuits of the black lake, this time with Hermione and Isabelle, both of whom kept up with him, to find the Goblin waiting for him just outside the Residence, "I was going to suggest that we begin by assessing your physical conditioning. But it would seem that you don't just intend to sit back and passively attempt to survive."

"Yeah," Harry admitted, "I'd like to do everything I can to ensure that I survive. A couple of weeks ago, a lap of the lake would tire me out. Now I think I can get about five or six kilometers in before it starts to hurt."

"I would suggest aiming for about ten kilometers, as that will give you the endurance necessary for an extended duel or whatever other tasks that the tournament may involve," said Griphook, "Have you been using the muggle gym?"

Harry nodded, "Not much… it's just that I'm trying to build some familiarity with the machines and I don't want to kill myself learning how to use them."

Griphook cocked his head, "I neglected to consider that Harry," admitted the Goblin, "Shall I arrange for a fitness instructor?" busy draining his water bottle, Harry just shook his head, "Well then, as the muggle French would say," said Griphook conversationally, "En Garde!"

A lifetime of dodging objects hurled by Dudley and Vernon augmented by three years of Quidditch had given the young man exceptional reflexes. Even so, he was barely able to dodge the first spread of curses that slammed in to the wall sending stone shards flying.

The second spread gouged long furrows in to the floor and Harry finally retailed with several minor curses and hexes of his own, which the Goblin deflected and then attempted to side step, right in to the path of banished rock. Stumbled for a moment, the teenager regained his footing and went on the offensive immediately, firing a hex or curse every few seconds. Griphook countered, deflected or simply sidestepped with ease.

A second string of spells flashed towards the Goblin, and if it had surprised him, it did not show as he deflected several of the curses, and shielded himself against a few more. Hermione had entered the fray. Worn out from her morning workout with Harry, and knew she could do little but distract in her condition and was barely able to dodge the return volley. A stunner struck her in the shoulder, flipping her over and out of the fight as her wand rolled from her fingers. That exchange has lasted less than five seconds.

The Goblin turned, shield raised only to find himself on the receiving end of a vicious left-handed punch to the nose. A magical shield only stops magic after all. The blow caused no lasting damage, and did not even hurt that much. However, the fact that Harry had actually landed a blow was encouraging news. He was also quick to react, opened up a ten-foot gap between them, firing spells constantly as he extended the distance.

Harry kept up the pressure, so long as he kept the Goblin on the defensive, eventually, something would break his… "What the…" Harry spun on the spot, in time for a leg locker curse to strike, doubling him over before a full body bind slammed him to the floor.

A moment later the goblin had applied the counter curses and helped the young man to his feet, before doing the same for Hermione. "Not bad," the Goblin nodded, "Admittedly, I was holding back, but you did well. You adapted, and improvised well, but you were easily distracted by my apparition," The Goblin pulled several phials and handed them over, reading the labels, they downed the headache remover and bruise reducer. Hermione requested a rematch, and Griphook felt that he would be delighted. Harry merely glowered at the goblin who returned the look with a hunter's grin, "Care to try again Harry?"

Griphook was secretly pleased that the boy could draw upon his rage and anger. It was an open secret that Goblin's could channel those emotions in battle, but what was not so well known was how. That would come later, for now, Harry was itching for a rematch…

Two hours later Harry was aching, and covered in bruises, minor cuts and scratches and had a headache that made his eyeballs pound. Griphook on the other hand was barely out of breath, "I can hear you wondering, not so much as to why you could not defeat me, but as to why you could not even hit me with a single spell."

"It's ridiculous!" gasped Harry, "You're just too fast!" the boy stood and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Partly," said Griphook, "But the bigger problem is that your repertoire of spells is limited," the Goblin shook his head, "I had hoped that you were exaggerating the poor caliber of your instructors in Defense. However you demonstrate an adequate grasp of most charms, and how they can be used offensively and defensively as well." The following hour was perhaps one of the most instructive in Harry's life, and he paid a great deal of attention. After another two mock duels, in which Griphook simply wiped the floor with Harry, they called it a morning.

The afternoon would be devoted to adding spells to Harry's arsenal, and Griphook mentioned that Hermione had been doing some research in that direction, "Have her join us Harry. I am curious to see what she has found." Harry glanced at his watch and had to ask Griphook about the time, "I think my watch is a little bit off… it says just after ten in the morning."

"You have the correct time Harry. The dueling area is charmed, with some very powerful chronological magic. You are familiar with the concept are you not? You and Ms. Granger shared an adventure, of sorts."

It took only a moment, "Time turner."

"Similar, except that instead of allowing one to move back and forth through time, this merely slows time. Within the confines of the dueling arena and its attendant spaces, time slows to half its normal rate. In essence, you may have three weeks before the first task, but in here, you have much longer than that. The enchantment cannot be extended to cover extensively large areas, hence its limitation to the dueling and training area," said Griphook, "But one can do more than duel in such as space…."

"Your office!" said Harry suddenly, "It has a similar enchantment doesn't it?" The goblin only smiled, said good-bye and departed by the residence by Floo.

Though he acted in his clients best interests, Griphook knew that one day he would have to tell Harry the truth. However, he was not sure that he wanted or could do that to him. Not yet. Though a few of the signs were already manifesting, these were, nonetheless, just a few of the signs. He had withheld the details of the prophecy and believed he had done the correct thing.

Though the High Council felt the boy should know his destiny, there was no reason to ruin the young man's life, a life where he may still get to live and enjoy a great deal more of it. He sat at his desk, and idly tapped the quill against his tooth, wondering how to frame this latest report.


	9. Training

**watChapter Nine:**

**Training **

"_**It's all to do with the training: you can do a lot if you're properly trained." –Elizabeth II**_

In his office, Albus Dumbledore sucked on a lemon drop, and made a note that he was going to have to start ordering a lot more of them. His visit with Ms. Granger had been productive indeed. Moreover, he felt no real guilt for what he had done. It was necessary. He told himself, to ensure that the boy stayed under control. Having her under his spell or rather, spells would help with that. However, there was little that he could do to mitigate the Goblin's influence. He had suspected for several long years that Goblins knew everything he knew, and perhaps even more but had simply refused to share.

The headmaster had nearly had a heart attack when Lupin and then the Animagus godfather had joined the retinue. Two of his own Professors were also tutoring the boy in Charms and Transfiguration. Nevertheless, with only three weeks, Dumbledore was quite certain that Harry would bow out of the tournament during the first task – with a little outside help – and possibly a spectacular failure. Perhaps he could arrange one to help bring the boy back under his control. He sat at his desk and decided it was time to put several other pieces in to play.

That afternoon, Harry, Isabelle, and Hermione went over a variety of spells, curses and jinxes. Isabelle had become a permanent presence and planned to spend a lot of time with Harry in the dueling arena, partly to help, but also to take advantage of the extra time, some of which was going to involve extracurricular activities not on any syllabus. It became somewhat difficult for Harry to keep track of the time as he spent long hours in the dueling arena, with his various tutors and instructors.

True enough, he worked hard with them, and even harder on his own. While Hermione was worried that Harry would not only outstrip her in three subjects, but would also rank amongst the top students in the class, Isabelle was quite proud of her boyfriend and encouraged him further, pushing herself in studies and training in general.

Both Harry and Isabelle were both worried to notice that lately, Hermione always seemed to be in a daze or having some sort of internal struggle. But busy as they were with training and such, and it was usually pushed to the back of their minds.

By the end of his first week, Harry, Isabelle, and Hermione had mastered a number of new spells, both offensive and defensive in nature and had found a suitable dueling style that let them play to their strengths. At Luna's gentle prodding, Harry began a cursory study in Ancient Runes and found that there was a certain, delight in the way he was forced to use his brain to crack the puzzles, whether it was about enchantment, translation or some other exercise. Griphook was delighted with his progress, as was Professor McGonagall who was surprised at the grasp that Harry had on both inanimate to animate and animate to inanimate transfiguration. His skill put him easily in the top three of the year.

Things had fallen in to a routine, and a good one for that first week and during the second, he followed Griphook's advice and arranged to meet his Charms Professor and retired Master Duelist. It was a day of surprise as Professor Flitwick bowed to Griphook in the Goblin fashion, "Griphook Thazdom of the Bha-zhak Kha-dorath, it has been a long time."

Harry stood with his mouth agape as the two bowed to one another and then hugged, "Professor, you know Griphook?" asked Harry somewhat confused.

"Yes Harry. I do," squeaked the diminutive charms professor, "You could say that we are distantly related by blood, I would be his grand nephew." That left the young wizard speechless as the two spent a minute catching up on old times and various family relations before moving to the subject of the day.

"Now Harry, I know you've got a good grasp of Charms, but what I propose to teach you is not just charms, but to pass on certain knowledge that I hope will be of use to you in the coming tournament, and beyond that – what with the way trouble tends to follow you around."

Harry had the good grace to look slightly ashamed as the two shared a smile and grin, "Alright, alright. Can I please get to the learning part of the lesson? You can both tease me during a tea break or something." They set to work, Flitwick explaining one of the secrets that helped him earn his title as master duelist: Spell Chains.

"The ability to cast a variety of spells accurately at a stationary or moving target is important, but there will be occasions, when it is necessary to simply flood an area, or your opponents with spells. Often times, this ability is used to overwhelm shields or even fixed wards and other enchantments. It can also be used to test and gauge defenses. To chain spells, effectively, one must combine the end wand motion of one spell, with the start motion of another. The greater the similarity between the wand movements, the faster one can cast. The ability to cast spells silently will also be a great asset…."

"Silent casting?" interrupted harry, "as in casting a spell without saying the incantation?"

"Yes." Professor Flitwick never minded interruptions related to the topic at hand, "Silent casting is exactly what it sounds like, and what you describe. It is unfortunately, a skill not taught at Hogwarts. Those who require it master it during basic Auror, Hit Wizard or Obliviator training. Beyond careers in Magical Law enforcement, there is limited need for the ability." Harry found that it was definitely something he wanted to learn.

Flitwick demonstrated a short but brutally crippling spell chain, in slow motion, exaggerating the wand motions against one of the training dummies. The chains could be as short as two or three spells or include up to a dozen different spells and are equally suited to both attack and defense.

While that helped explain the speed of their casting, it did not explain why Goblins and many of their blood kin could move so fast, "Long ago, before the current Age of Man, Goblin's were masters in the study and application of Time Magic," explained Griphook. "Though you may never cast spells or move at the same speed as a Goblin, that advantage can be negated through application of certain charms or even magical artifacts."

"The goblins had studied the nature of time but after several near catastrophes involving various pasts, presents and futures, they ceased their studies. However, their prolonged exposure to such magic and time travel to study the past and learn from the future had caused the magic itself to permeate the blood of the Goblins and that of their kin," concluded professor Flitwick.

"So there are Goblin Seers?" asked Harry, thinking of divination.

"Yes," Griphook hesitated, "There are… but like their wizarding counterparts, they are few that can properly remember their visions or prophecies. Those that can see and recall their visions must then learn to interpret them. Many Goblins seers only understand their prophecies until the events themselves have begun or come to pass," he shrugged, "In many cases, their visions and what they foretell are dismissed as déjà vu and nothing more."

Flitwick picked up the explanation, "The Ministry slaves those with the All Seeing Eye to a pensieve," he pauses at the questioning expression on Harry's face and remembers that the wizard grew up as a muggle, "A pensieve is a magical artifact that can store memories, so that any prophecies they make are automatically recorded. But the process is damaging to the mind, and what damage is done is irreversible and many lose years of their lives." He was more than a little disgusted with the practice.

"So goblins have their own seers, and prophecies," mused Harry, unaware of just how uncomfortable that line of questioning was making Griphook.

"Yes. However, where our seers are many, we have few of what we call Farseer. These are the few whose recorded prophecies and come to pass. Such an event brings great honor to the clan concerned but rarely within the lifetime of the seer themselves," concluded Griphook, "Now then, back to the lesson at hand…"

That Friday morning, Albus Dumbledore watched the French half Veela with a twinkle in his eye as he moved his Queen to checkmate his King.

Fleur sat at the Gryffindor table this morning, much to the suspicion of its usual occupants and, while she ideally wanted Harry alone, this looked like the best opportunity she was going to get: Potter and the Longbottom boy. The others in that circle of friends had already left. Smoothing down her skirt, made somewhat shorter and snugger fitting than usual, she loosened a few buttons on her blouse and followed her, prey. "Mr. Potter?"

It was at this moment that Isabelle had doubled back to the Great Hall for a book she had forgotten and watched the scene happen, with a raised eyebrow, gripping her wand, and feeling her temper rising.

Harry could immediately tell that something was happening, to him, as he swayed around almost drunkenly, standing before the Beauxbaton's Champion. There was something, very, very wrong, and he found himself remembering comparing Isabelle to Fleur. Thinking about his girlfriend, snapped Harry out of his daze.

He took a step back, and his entire body seemed to radiate ice, his eyes glared at Fleur, who watched in utter shock as Harry completely blocked her allure. Isabelle watched this with pride and slight amusement. "Is there something I can do for you, Miss Delacour?" Harry asked. Even from where she was standing, Isabelle felt the icy venom drip from his voice, and she grinned viciously.

Bringing her Veela traits to the fore, she struck just the right pose to display all of her assets; her voice dripping with sexual promise as she purred, "Call me Fleur. I have been looking for the appropriate opportunity to apologize for my outburst after Halloween. It was a difficult night for all us." She batted her eyelids and Neville, dropped to his knees love struck and spell bound. "I do hope you can forgive me,' she lightly grasped his arm and let her hand trail down, her well manicured, deep red nails raking his skin ever so lightly.

That did it for Isabelle, whose temper had been climbing higher and higher as that bimbo touched her boyfriend. Storming over to the three, Isabelle arrived just as Harry was reaching to remove Fleur's hand, but Isabelle beat him too it. She grabbed Fleur's wrist forcefully, gripping it as tight as possible and almost certainly leaving a bruise, and removed it from Harry's body. She stepped in front of him, and glared at the taller French girl with a sort of hate that could rival Snape and Voldemort's combined.

"Listen _Princess,_" Isabelle sneered, "you had better stay away from my boyfriend, or else. He obviously doesn't want your company, and frankly, I don't blame him. By the looks of it, he's not the only one getting this sort of attention." From the way Isabelle said it, it was obviously she indirectly calling Fleur a…whore. Harry snorted from behind her, while Fleur glared at Isabelle who stood her ground unwaveringly.

Fleur's face and posture faltered as Harry wrapped his arms protectively and lovingly around Isabelle's waist and pulled her back to his chest, resting his chin on her shoulder. He smirked at her sarcastically. "Love, don't fight, it's not worth it alright?" Harry said, kissing her neck. Fleur saw Isabelle's eyes almost roll back into her head at the single touch, and it made her crave Harry even more, but this _little girl _was in the way, and Harry obviously didn't want her.

Isabelle focused back on Fleur with a mocking smirk and made a shooing motion with her hands. "Run along now princess." Isabelle said. Fleur looked at Harry smoldering, trying one last time, but Harry simply raised an eyebrow, and Fleur flounced away angrily. When she was gone, Isabelle turned around in Harry's arms and stared into his eyes, before smirking and pulling him into a kiss that curled his toes right then.

"That…" Isabelle said, slightly panting; "was for being you, and the best boyfriend ever." She grinned at Harry's dazed look. "But how was it possible for you to resist her? She's half Veela!"

Harry pulled her even closer, and kissed her soundly. "Because I have you Isa, and you occupy my every thought, there's no room for her in my mind." For that, Harry earned himself another toe-curling kiss. And with that, Harry and Isabelle linked hands and wandered off to class.

The second week had otherwise passed without incident or mishap, and Harry and Isabelle's dueling abilities and skill with magic were improving in fits and starts as Professor Flitwick showed him how to combine spells chains with active and passing dodging tactics, and he in turn, showed Isabelle, who insisted on training with him in everything.

When he asked about it, she made a very good point. As his girlfriend, she would be a target, and it was better to be prepared. Griphook had taught him two dozen odd hand to hand combat moves that included punching, kicking and grappling with an enemy in addition to focusing more on Harry's overall physical fitness and training regime.

Professor McGonagall had been an interesting opponent who had turned the environment to her advantage, transfiguring and animating anything and everything and commanding in to attack. Though Harry had obliterated many of her attackers, the charging furniture lead by a sofa, bookcase and armchair had finally imprisoned him in a corner of the dueling arena.

Hermione had suggested Professor Moody by Harry had declined. For one, the Auror, however famous was too close or even an ally of Dumbledore. Beside, something just did not feel quite right about him. Harry had stonewalled the headmaster and Hermione had fought fiercely against the spells he placed on her, but she couldn't yet fight them enough to warn Harry.

When Dumbledore had actually offered access to his personal library however, he had forcefully rejected the man, much to Isabelle's amusement; even before dating Harry, she's never had love or respect for the Headmaster.

Afterwards, after being severely told off by Harry while his girlfriend stood on the side and watched, the headmaster collapsed in to his seat and contemplated the information he had retrieved. The boy's training was progressing almost too well, and Potter had access to his family vault and the blood protections were functional once again. The vault and its contents were now beyond his grasp.

He was running out of time and chess pieces. With the first task only a week away, the headmaster resolved to set in motion his last available pawns. He could only hope they would help him get Harry back under control.


	10. Separation

**Chapter Ten:**

**Separation**

"_**I'll never see them again. I know that. And they know that. And knowing this, we say farewell." **_**―****Haruki Murakami**

Sunday, a week before the First Task, saw Ron's release from House arrest. It was a quiet, subdued return. Nobody was there to welcome him back or greet him, which was just the way he wanted it. Ron swallowed his pride, and knew that he had only one choice: Apologize to Harry, for not believing him.

The following morning dawned bright and sunny though a little chilly. Harry had kept his regular pace, lapped Hermione once but she was doing fine, and she was catching up with him. Isabelle only had to push herself slightly to keep up with him, but she was hardly out of breath. When he asked about it, she said that more than once she had to make a quick escape from some other kids at the orphanage. That ended the conversation.

They were out of sight of the castle, and safe enough on the grounds of the castle, as Hermione pushed herself through her final lap as Harry and Isabelle finished their tenth and final lap. Taking a slow walk back to the castle, Harry and Isabelle hand in hand, the group saw the light on in Hagrid's hut with smoke dancing from the chimney and stopped in.

Hagrid had immediately taken to Isabelle awhile ago, and she liked him immensely in return, further convincing Harry that she was the best girlfriend for him. The half-giant was slightly worried about what Harry would face in the coming task though, and he had no clue as the organizers had been keeping everything under wraps. Hagrid had confirmed however, that cheating was an integral part of tournament tradition - so long as nobody was hurt. Taking in to account that people had died, it occurred to Harry to wonder just how many of those deaths were truly "_accidental._"

Walking back up the castle, the group caught sight of Ron, leaning against the open door of the castle. "Harry, Hermione." He greeted them with almost complete indifference, though Harry caught the flash of confusion as he saw Harry and Isabelle holding hands.

"Isabelle Cantrine, my girlfriend." Harry answered the unasked question evenly. Ron's eyes flashed to Hermione who rolled her eyes, and then he eyed Isabelle. Instantly, he felt a flash of jealousy. He may have been wrong about Harry and Hermione dating, but now Harry had someone even better.

"Weasley." Isabelle said, noticing him looking at her. They started at each other for a long, moment, "So how goes it, champion?" drawled Ron. It was a stark difference in his attitude: Polite to the point of sarcastically insulting. Harry had seen that particular attitude before. So had the girls, "Not sure what you hope to achieve by that…" he nodded in the direction of the Black Lake, "running around it like a mud…muggle."

Isabelle tensed as did Hermione and Harry as they caught what he had been about to say. Harry could note the changes in his former friend and it all seemed strangely familiar: The air, the attitude, the way he carried himself, but he decided to answer the question, "Physical training, just trying to get in to better shape for the tournament." He said, keeping his tone carefully neutral, "Why?"

Ron righted himself, "Just wondering," and the young red head was wondering, just who had the right of things, considering everything he had been told and discussed with Draco, Pansy, even Millicent and Daphne. While the four were pureblood and the purist ideology they followed extreme to Ron, he had to admit that there were points that he did agree with.

Considering how far his pureblood family had fallen, out of favor, from wealth, from power. It had given Ron a lot to think about but he was not sure if he was prepared to turn his back on three years of friendship, "Harry… things are never going to be the same between us are they?" asked the redhead. There was a touch of hope in his voice,

Hermione and Harry shared a glance, and she saw the darkness there, and knew what he was about to do. She approved. That bastard hit her, he didn't deserve forgiveness. Harry stepped forward, Isabelle stepping with him, unwilling to let go of his hand, and leveled his iciest glare at the red-head, who looked startled.

"Weasley, there is _nothing_ between us, not now, and not ever again. You are a selfish, ungrateful, jealous, _woman-beating_, bastard, and in case you haven't noticed, I've been quite happy without you. We are never going to be friends, Traitor." Harry spat. The girls almost flinched at the venom in Harry's tone, but Ron simply looked bewildered. This was not going how he expected.

"B-But…Harry, I'm sorry! I should've believed you, I know that now!" Ron pleaded. Harry snorted, and gestured for Hermione to follow as he gently pulled Isabelle with him, and walked right past Ron, not looking back once.

"Things just can't go back to the way they were, not after all of the things he did." Harry said as they sat down to breakfast later that morning.

Hermione smiled, "I don't think I could handle it if things went back the way they were."

Harry nodded in agreement, "Yeah well… there this bodiless spirit of a lunatic mad man on the loose that's been trying to kill me my whole life, that'll never change. I don't intend to make it easy for him, even if Dumbledore seems hell bent on doing just that."

At the mention of the headmaster, Hermione quieted for a moment, at war with herself. Harry and Isabelle glanced at each other, and then watched Hermione concernedly, until she calmed and then took a sip of her coffee, looking normal again.

"He knows just about everything that goes on in this castle, and then the rest of the wizarding world. He could have intervened at any point in my life. Instead I had to grow up with 11 years of hell at the Dursleys," he was speaking, quietly, calmly and fortunately, the very slight tremble that ran down the length of the Gryffindor table went unnoticed, "I can't forgive what he's done, yet. Maybe, somewhere in the future, I can try. I still have to go back there for the summer you know?" he was quiet, almost whispering.

He grabbed Isabelle's hand. "And three months away from you… I'm trying not to think about it." She smiled sadly at him, and kissed him soundly, washing away his bad mood rather quickly.

Harry had made it a point to come up to the Castle for breakfast at least three times a week, even though he was never absent for lunch or dinner. There were mornings when he preferred a quiet breakfast with some if not all of his retinue that had grown to include the Prank Master Generals Gred and Forge and "Prank Master Trainee" Ginny and perhaps most surprisingly of all Neville Longbottom.

As everyone left for class, Harry and Neville were alone at the Gryffindor table. The two boys were not actually talking, just really enjoying the silent company. Harry knew that Neville and Ginny were growing close, but he was not about to embarrass his friend on the topic but felt that he had a certain responsibility to, or perhaps for Ginny, "Neville, you and Ginny, it's getting serious?" The shy quiet boy blushed, and Harry hurried on, "I'm not trying to put you on the spot here, but you should know that things are probably going to get difficult with Ron."

"You and him, still at odds?" asked Neville quietly. Harry nodded, "I didn't think he'd turn on you the way he did, especially Hermione. Considering how much you two have been through together…" Harry was not sure how to respond to that insightful remark as they parted ways for their respective classes. Harry had two Marauders waiting for him.

Though the guards were in their customary places, something seemed off to him as he strode in to the residence. He dropped in to a crouch and rolled to the left. A flick of his wrist had his wand in his hand and a moment after that he had rolled out from behind the curse-shattered couch and showered the area in paper confetti revealing his attackers taking the offensive.

Dodging in random directions, the teenager attacked, "Impedimenta!" followed a tripping jinx, followed by leg locker and then, "Petrificus totalus!" and then, "Stupefy!" finally "Expelliarmus!" the spell chain was one of his own creations and felt that it would have done Flitwick proud as his first opponent went down for the count. The wand flew from his attacker's hand and he summoned it to him only to have it fly over his shoulder.

A spell slammed in to his ribs, taking him off his feet. Slamming in to the floor, he somehow kept a grip of his wand. Stunned for a moment, he managed to dodge a spell, then a second before disillusioning himself and rolling back to his feet compliments of his hand-to-hand combat instruction.

His remaining opponent had mirrored his charm. The disillusionment charm makes one invisible by adapting one's appearance to their surroundings… if that was the charm employed against him. Confetti streaming from his wand but that would not reveal anyone who stood still, "Periculum!" standing still while covered in paper is easy enough, but standing still under flaming paper is much harder. "Rictumsempra! Stupefy! Expelliarmus!" Harry ducked as two of his spells rebounded off a shield, and spun low to the right "Depulso!" the banishment charm was a cover for a far more powerful spell, "Reducto!" that blasted a cabinet and showered his Goblin attacker in wood splinters.

Suddenly, Harry was airborne as the rug flew out from under his feet, courtesy of a summoning charm. He found himself staring up at a grinning Goblin, a stunner already dancing on his fingertips with Remus "Moony" Lupin looking on. They apologized for the ambush, but they had wanted see how he was progressing, "and nothing," explained Lupin, "works better than a little impromptu quiz."

'Yeah well, next time please leave the test, a note, a quill and some parchment okay?" said Harry, with the barest trace of a smile. They got down to business, and if the duel was not demonstration enough, it was clear that Harry was not only ahead in his class, but ahead of his year as well in Defense, Charms and Transfiguration. He struggled with potions but knew that would be the case as long as Snape continued to "teach" the subject. Herbology was about average and he was quite happy with where he stood academically. He was still attending a few of his regularly scheduled classes - namely potions, Herbology and the ultimate bore: Divination because his tutors and instructors were not masters in those particular areas of study. Not that he minded much. He was so far ahead in the other subjects, having to work in class was a novelty.

In his office, Dumbledore was pacing back and forth, and sucking on yet another lemon drop, his fifth in the past hour. They helped calm him down, and help him think as well. Something he clearly needed to do a great deal. So far, his plans to get back in to Harry's good graces had all gone awry, and even attempts to manipulate the boy were not faring well.

The girl seemed to be unaffected no matter how many spells he put on her. To make matters worse, the boy was able to resist the charms of a Veela! A feat in its own right, but it was clear that Fleur was no longer a viable way to get the boy back. No. He needed something else.

Fawkes shook his magnificent head, Dumbledore, his friend for almost fifty years was wandering down a path that he, ironically feared Harry might one-day walk, and there was nothing he could do. Phoenix's are immortal, and Fawkes had seen more than one wizard make the same mistakes that Albus was making now. Again, he could do nothing but continue to carry out his duty: Watch, observe and record the passing of the ages, and never interfere. As an agent of a higher power, Fawkes knew that soon, his Mistress would have to act.

The Phoenix burst in to flames with a trill and vanished from his perch. Dumbledore ignored the event. Fawkes had been doing that regularly for almost three years and he thought nothing of it. If only the headmaster knew…


	11. The Right to Choose

**Chapter Eleven: **

**Nothing Sells Better**

"_A dream doesn't become reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination and hard work._" –Colin Powell

For Luna and Xenophilius Lovegood, the most recent publication of the Quibbler created a public outrage and condemnation for Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge and by extension, his entire administration. Harry could only whistle in appreciation. The headline itself would assure the need for at least a triple print run. Nothing after all, sold quite as well as a Harry Potter story, and the Quibbler was the only place to get one:

**Harry Potter and Sirius Black: His Innocently Condemned Godfather.**

_Sirius Black spent twelve years in Azkaban and escaped less than a year ago from the dreaded Azkaban prison. Most wanted mass murderers would return to their life of crime or flee. Mr. Black has done neither. He opted to stay in the country to protect his Godson, Harry Potter. Then, why does anyone spend twelve years in Azkaban Prison, when never charged with a crime? More importantly, why does anyone spend twelve years in Azkaban without trial? Unlike other publications, the Quibbler double-checks its facts: The fact is that the public record contains nothing on the arrest, trial or incarceration of Mr. Black._

_On the topic of his Godfather's wrongful imprisonment, Mr. Potter had this to say: "The real culprit, the real traitor was a supposed friend of my father and unregistered Animagus: Peter Pettigrew who has the form of a rat - how utterly fitting"_

_After a protracted battle in Hogsmeade Village's infamous Shrieking Shack last year, Mr. Potter actually had Peter Pettigrew in custody. However, the criminal escaped when Mr. Potter and his companions were attacked by the Ministry's own army of Dementors that were at Hogwarts School to protect the students from Mr. Black. It also happens that the minister has ordered a man who never stood trial sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss upon capture._

_On the subject of Dementors, Mr. Potter had this to say, "I was attacked (by Dementors) on the Hogwarts Express, during a Quidditch match and once again on the school grounds. Three separate times in one year! Most people go their entire lives without even seeing one!"_

_Mr. Potter went on to question just how the Dementors were there for the safety of him and his fellow students, and also to question why the announcement by him and fellow student Hermione Granger to Mr. Black's innocence were brushed aside as the ravings of two confounded teenagers._

_When asked if he had any last words, he had four words: "One. Hundred. Thousand. Galleons. Payable upon my 17th Birthday to who or the organization that brings me Peter Pettigrew. Alive… but dead will suffice." The Goblins of Gringotts have confirmed that Mr. Potter's has the funds to pay out this reward. We at the Quibbler wish to remind the public that an Animagus will revert to their human form upon death._

Victor Krum had actually been in the shower when the owl delivered the Quibbler and Daily Prophet together. It was a part of his Headmaster Karkaroff's training program to ensure that Victor was fully aware of what events were unfolding around them, for anything could contain an advantage. Victor was still wearing his towel as he reread the Quibbler article for the third time and it forced him to accept that his primary competitor was not Fleur or Cedric, but the long shot, fourteen-year-old underdog.

Additional articles highlighted the boy…young man's encounters with Dementors and his corporeal stag Patronus – something Victor himself still found difficult. It made for interesting and tactical reading. It was clear to Victor that Harry would use everything from weapon to trick to money to get what was right.

Cedric seated for breakfast found himself wondering why he had ever doubted that Harry really had told him the truth about the Goblet of Fire. If Harry could bring one hundred thousand galleons for a reward, why would he waste his time for a thousand? The deal with the Quibbler could have been made without participating in the tournament too. Harry had told him the truth, concluded the Hufflepuff, and he was glad that none in his house had gone against the 14 year old wizard.

Fleur read the article and cursed quietly under her breath: Rich, powerful, and able to resist Veela Charm. He was everything any woman could want. He was everything she and the Veela in her wanted because there was simply no one else better for a thousand miles. Standing, she took her leave of the Ravenclaw table and had barely set her foot out the door of the hall when she was half tossed, half dragged down a side passage.

Just as suddenly, she found herself standing face to drawn wands. A quick glace over her shoulder revealed another trio. Six witches lead by Ginerva Molly Weasley looked ready to hex first and explain later as she snapped out an explanation. "When any wizard chooses a Gryffindor girl or vice versa their housemates respect and protect that relationship. Harry made his choice, and to protect Isabelle, it means that he is off limits."

Being part Veela, meant that you had the boys drooling over you from the moment those traits manifest themselves until control of those traits is gained. She had encountered such reactions, both deliberate and unprovoked. Fleur was not only a Witch from Beauxbaton, the finest school of magic in Western Europe but a Triwizard Champion! "But you forget, that I am not a student of Hogwarts School." she said carefully, moving her hand to her wand.

"No Miss Delacour, you forget, and forget a great deal: You forget that you stand in Hogwarts. You forget that you have attempted to interfere in the relationship of two of our own, because we certainly consider Isabelle one of ours. You forget that you stand, with six wands trained, and you forget that we would be quite happy to use them!" That was an open invitation to a duel, and Fleur Delacour would be more than happy to demonstrate to these "_children_" that those of French magical blood are not spineless like their muggle counterparts!

Fleur's wand was already half raised; two incantations were nearly complete when a voice rang out, ice cold and steely. "Stop!" Isabelle stood with her wand drawn; Harry had taken up a flanking position in case spells became necessary. "This ends now!" she commanded, "this is beyond the point of ridiculous." She turned her gaze on Ginny, "Leave."

The six witches hesitated until Ginny nodded and they lowered their wands. As they filed past, Isabelle gave the redhead a warm hug. "Ginny understand that I appreciate the gesture, but I can handle my own relationships." The redhead nodded and moved off. Fleur was not exactly sure what to make of the situation

Seeing the girl's confusion, Isabelle lowered her wand and stepped forward, Harry coming to stand right behind her. She looked Fleur directly in the eyes. "I didn't tell them to do this, and I didn't know about this at all, that I swear, but this ends now, Fleur. I understand that your Veela side wants _my_ Harry, I mean who wouldn't, but he's just that, _**my**_Harry, and nobody else's." Isabelle said sternly.

"Listen, I don't want to constantly be fighting you or having to watch my back because you're trying to steal my boyfriend. This Tournament is supposed to be about making international friendships, not competition and fighting. So, I say we start over, without the fighting…or seducing," Isabelle added, Fleur grinned, and Harry snorted, "and try this again."

Isabelle took another step towards Fleur, and smiled brightly. "Hi, I'm Isabelle Isis Cantrine, and this is my boyfriend, Harry James Potter. It's nice to meet you." She held out a hand. Fleur looked at Isabelle and saw that she was serious. Her Veela wouldn't stop wanting Harry, at least not until she left Hogwarts, but the human-side, the Fleur side, would rather have more friends that accepted her.

Smiling softly, Fleur took Isabelle's hand gently and shook it. Harry stepped right next to Isabelle, and gave Fleur a final look, and she knew he had truly made his choice. But then he smiled, and held out a hand, and she took that as well, and then let go. That was that.

Ginny watched the trio walk in to the great hall and noticed that they were all smiles. They stopped for a word with Cedric before coming to her. Ginny had an apology on the tip of her tongue but Isabelle simply pulled the girl in to a hug. "I understand what you were doing and why. I appreciate that," she turned to the rest of the girls, "that all of you were watching out for me. Thank you."

Lavender Brown shrugged. "We're Gryffindors, Isabelle. And while you're technically a Ravenclaw, we consider you an honorary Gryffindor. We may not always agree, or get along, but we watch out for our own. It's a pride thing… a lion's pride." Harry gave Ginny the same sort of one-armed hug and the youngest Weasley blushed furiously as she met Harry's emerald gaze from a distance of a few inches when the Prank Master Generals intervened.

"Mr. Potter," started Fred, doing a impressive impersonation of Professor McGonagall, "It's not bad enough that you have enthralled Ms. Cantrine," he waved an arm over to the Ravenclaw, seated at their table, surrounded by a collection of younger students, asking her advice about something.

George took over and added an imperial overtone, "…but to then add Ms. Lovegood, and then a French Triwizard Champion to your ah…collection," he said drily.

"…and then the young Ms. Weasley," chortled Fred with a Dumbledore twinkle in his eye.

"…one would think you're starting a harem!" the two concluded simultaneously.

There was a tense moment of silence, "It took me a very long time to get in to the Harry Potter Harem. Now if you want a place, I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind…" Luna said dreamily as she eyed the twins with a suggestive smirk that would have put a Veela to shame. One look at the expressions of shock and horror set the entire table laughing

"Well, on the topic of collections," said Harry airily, "I was planning to invite a number of people for dinner. Isabelle, Luna, Hermione, you are of course invited. Ginny, Neville, Colin, I hope you can join us?" He left the twins to stew for a moment before extending the invitation to the pair, on the condition that they both are on their best prank free behavior.

Everyone was quick to agree that dinner would be an excellent idea. Some would have found it strange that Hermione had not objected to Dobby's presence, but Harry had privately explained that he was a free elf, and worked for pay – five Galleons a month – and also got vacation time – two days off a month.

Griphook had fought an uphill battle, climbed a wall and crossed the ceiling to get the stubborn elf to agree to what Griphook referred to as "slavery conditions even by Goblin standards!" With a whistle, Hedwig flapped her way in to the Great Hall and descended upon Harry shoulder, waiting as he wrote out a quick invitation to Victor Krum. Almost as an afterthought, he invited several professors, his tutors and a few outsiders to join them.

Sitting aboard the Durmstrang's vessel, Victor Krum was passing the time, alone. He valued privacy and could quite understand what Harry Potter had to live with. Fame was a fickle ally at best. Even though Quidditch was a team sport, Seekers were simultaneously the most important and most alone. Their catch could make or break a game.

In the aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup, he had been equally reviled and revered for catching the snitch when he did. The spotlight of fame and international superstardom meant condemnation and praise for almost every action he took. Privacy was something he enjoyed.

Victor was surprised when the beautiful snowy owl had landed next to him and he responded positively to the invitation. He had been wondering what the point of the competition was. Headmaster Karkaroff had hardly encouraged his students to mingle or mix with those of Hogwarts or even Beauxbaton for that matter. This seemed to the Quidditch star to be the perfect opportunity to do what the tournament was supposed to do: meet people from other schools and make a few friends.

When Dumbledore learned of the dinner invitations, he went through several lemon drops, contemplating the potential impacts. He decided to let the matter rest. There was no point in trying to stop students from having dinner together. However, he did arrange a quiet meeting with the boy. Harry was outside the gargoyle at eight o'clock sharp. It sprang aside and he made his way up to Dumbledore's office, knocked and entered. "Good Evening Harry," he said with his charismatic smile and twinkle in his eye, "Are you ready for the first task?"

Harry shrugged, nonchalant, relaxed and confident, "I'm confident in my abilities thanks mostly to my instructors." he took a seat and waved away the offer of tea or any other snacks. One thing he had learned from the Goblins was that you do not accept food or drink from anyone you are or ever were at odds with.

The conversation meandered on several polite topics, and Harry recognized this was the headmaster's attempts to rebuild their nonexistent bridges. But Harry was far from happy with the old bastard, and his eyes gained a frigid glint. "Professor, I have several better things I could be doing, is there any particular reason you want to meet?" Harry asked coldly.

Dumbledore flinched at the cold tone, and knew now was not the time he would be mending bridges, he still had to try.

"Harry," the headmaster hesitated for a moment, feeling every single year of his monumental age, "I did mean what I said, about clearing the air between us…" Harry's gaze turned almost predatory. "I understand you've expanded your retinue to include three members of the Weasley family, Isabelle Cantrine, and Colin Creevey?"

At the brisk, perfunctory nod, the headmaster could only sigh and continue. "I understand that Colin acts as your official photographer and Miss Cantrine…" Dumbledore forged on, "but why the twins and Ginny? The relationship," he paused to emphasize his point, "friendship cannot be damaged beyond repair by so little? Surely an invitation to dinner with the Champions would help… repair the damage?"

It was a risk to use such information, but then it was also a risk to have retrieved the information using that particular magical talent and the spells he had placed on a young witch some weeks before. Harry simply sat there and wondered where the Headmaster had gotten that information. Though he had made the dinner itself no secret, the guest list - well a part of it - was something he had kept to himself, Isabelle, and Hermione

He didn't want to talk about the Traitor, and decided to put an end to this right now. "Professor, not that it's any of your business, but Ron and I will _never_ be anything more than very distant acquaintances. I will never forgive him, but I won't stop Hermione if she wants to, though I know she won't. That boy is a Traitor to everything we built our friendship on, and there will be no reconciliation." Harry said firmly.

Dumbledore sighed, but inwardly he cursed. Ronald was just another way he could've used to get back in Harry's good graces. Nodding to show his understanding of the gravity of the situation and the choice that Harry was making, the headmaster glided the conversation along. "Your retinue stands at seven students, two professors, Mr. Lupin as your private tutor and Griphook. I mean no disrespect to any of your tutors, but can the four of them, especially since three of them are more part time than full time handle the education of seven teenagers, especially when one considers that Fred and George Weasley can be considered to be equivalent to the trouble of seven children?"

"My retinue continues their regular classes, and attends whatever private instruction they feel like taking, learning what interests them. Those that choose to stay in the residence are welcome to stay." He was tired of the games, of the subtle politicking. "The castle is not safe for Luna. Her own house and administrative inaction has seen to that."

The rebuke had all the subtlety of a battle-axe to the side of the head and Dumbledore had the good grace to look embarrassed. Harry met the headmaster saddened face with a glare, "Harry, you must understand, that…"

"Headmaster," Harry cut him off, "What I have done thus far has been out of respect and of common courtesy to you as headmaster. Consider it a gesture of good faith on my part. Not a voluntary one but it is what it is. I will be honest: My life has not been mine to live. I would not wish my childhood on Draco Malfoy and I despise him. I will not change my mind. And you will not be able to convince me about what is best for my girlfriend or the rest of my retinue."

Dumbledore could see the futility of trying to continue down any avenue, whether to negotiate, plead or even beg. He would get no farther than this: The boy was talking to him again...barely. Acting the part of the injured party, he dismissed Harry.

For the past week the castle had been buzzing about what the first task could possibly entail that would test daring, nerve and cunning. Ron had speculated along with the rest of the students. So far, the theories had gotten wilder and wilder, including Sphinxes, Dementors, Werewolves, and even Vampires much to the amusement of Ron and his new friend Draco Malfoy. Unsurprisingly, he had been spending more and more time in the Slytherin common room – with Daphne Greengrass if rumor was to be believed - and he'd become something of a Traitor in Gryffindor.

Ron was more than a little perturbed when Professor McGonagall ordered him to meet the headmaster in his office that night. He knew that despite his actions earlier in the year, he had not put another foot wrong. He had been trying to figure out what Harry had meant during their last conversation with each other, and where his friendship with Draco fit in to the bigger picture. However, for the moment, his biggest concern was the headmaster. "How are you coping Mr. Weasley?" he asked, "I know that things have been, difficult between you and your best friends…"

Ron actually laughed, "I don't have any best friends in Gryffindor, not anymore. They don't even look in my direction when they do decide to eat in the great hall;" he was more than a little bitter, "Both of my brothers and my little sister have sold me out to be with the Champion!" There was a great deal of hatred, but also pain in that one word, and Dumbledore was quick to note it.

"Nonsense!" he replied, "You have best friends. They will both realize that you have been a good friend to them both in the past. Things will be as they should be and, I suspect much sooner than you think.

"Do you really think so?"

"Of course I do!" the headmaster was actually smiling, with that twinkle back in his eye, "Harry and I are on speaking terms once again," he admitted candidly, "But only just. He really could use our help in the first task of the tournament. I just hope that Charlie does not bring any truly vicious breeds. I feel for the Champions, but even more so for Harry…"

The Knut unfortunately, refused to drop as Ron brightened, "Charlie's coming? That's great I haven't seen him for ages!" Dumbledore wondered the same thing Ginny had wondered: How Ron could be a chess prodigy but thicker than "Hogwart's A history" about just about everything else.

"I was worried about Mr. Weasley," continued the headmaster gently, "After all, he will be here in his official capacity, from Romania." With anyone else, he would have been worried about laying it on too thick. With Ron however, he was convinced it would be a necessity.

Ron however, was not as dense as he made out to be. It wasn't that he was stupid, but by pretending to be dumber than he really was, he'd managed to make his life that much easier. For three years, he had been able to sponge of both Hermione and Harry for schoolwork with none of them being the wiser for it. He knew exactly what it was Dumbledore was telling him, but he couldn't figure out the reason why. If the two were on speaking terms, why was he getting all the hints?

Being a chess prodigy does help with strategy and there in lay the key: They were barely on speaking terms, and discussing the tournament would probably get out of hand, quickly. However, the second youngest Weasley had the measure of the headmaster now, "Official capacity? From the Dragon Reserve?" he was actually smiling, pretending that the Knut had dropped, "Oh! Hagrid got dragons for care for magical creatures!"

"Yes." The headmaster met Ron's gaze fully with a smile, "Four dragons," It took almost no effort to enter the defenseless mind and skim the surface thoughts. He was however, careful not to venture deeper than that, just in case. The headmaster was more than a little surprised to learn what he did, including his new friendship with Draco and Slytherin. The headmaster wore a slightly bemused smile - as if a student could out play him at his own game - "Regardless, I'm sure that things will be back to normal shortly."

Ron left the office of the headmaster wondering just what had happened. He thought he had felt something, but could not quite place it, and resolved to talk to Draco about it. Perhaps the Slytherin could shed some light on the matter.

Though Draco was not quite sure what to make of Ron's description of something "_poking around in my head_," on what to do with his knowledge of the dragons, Draco was blunt:

"Better Cedric than Potter," he said with disgust. Ron shrugged, giving neither support nor condemnation of Draco's position on the matter, "Ron," Draco hesitated, "I know that you still harbor feelings of well, friendship for Potter and even the mud…muggle Granger. However, you have to remember what you are. You. Are. A. Pureblood. The blond boy hesitated, "You will have to choose, and soon."


	12. First Task

**Chapter Twelve:**

**First Task**

"_**In prosperity, our friends know us; in adversity, we know our friends."**_** –John Collins**

It was Thursday, three days before the first task when Hagrid managed to get a hold of Harry as he left the camp with Isabelle for their morning run around the lake. Hermione was off somewhere reading one of the books Harry had bought her. "Harry! Isabelle!" he shouted and waved to them. The gamekeeper looked around, "There's something I need to tell…"

Harry just sighed. Last night had ended well, with a nice dinner, and some very enjoyable time alone with Isabelle. He had no idea what Isabelle thought about in her spare time, but Harry had made a series of interesting discoveries about what she'd thought and had thoroughly enjoyed the "_brief preview of things to come_." The good mood had only improved when he gotten up to find his Isabelle curled up asleep, with most of her clothes on. "I'm guessing Dumbledore sent you with some information?"

"No. No." he reassured them. The two teens chuckled, knowing that Hagrid was the worst liar and perhaps worst secret keeper in the magical world. He was telling the truth. "Listen, I found out what they got for the first task. They've been hidden in the Forbidden…"

"Hagrid," Harry cut off Hagrid quickly, "Please understand that I do appreciate you wanting to help," he held up a hand to forestall the protest, "But where you sent in the Forbidden Forest on an errand?" That stopped the half giant in his tracks. "Every year, I've gotten mixed up in something or other. Dumbledore has failed to keep his students from getting involved, but also made sure that there are enough clues for us to get his job done. I can't trust him."

They both saw the look of hurt in his eyes, "I can't trust him, Hagrid. But I trust you, my friend." Harry broke in to a smile, "Trust me, I can handle this." Hagrid's hugs made Molly Weasley's seem like she was shaking hands instead. "And then, there's the money Harry. I heard why, but I don't understand. The Basilisk never attacked me!"

"You were," said Isabelle, having thoroughly discussed almost everything about Harry there was to know with him, "Just not directly. It cost you your wand and rights as a wizard." It was true that while Hagrid had been a mediocre student at best, he would have still received a full magical education and earned a number of OWLs and NEWTs.

"It's a small thing, money… You deserve an apology that you never got." Harry added. The couple said nothing to each other but they had developed something of a language of looks and expressions that only the two of them understood. They cut their morning workout to spend time with a friend.

Friday night saw a very frustrated headmaster much to the amusement of Fawkes, who just watched him wear a hole in the stone floor as he paced by and forth like a clockwork soldier. Weasley had ultimately said nothing to Harry. Hagrid had not appreciated the position he had been put in to "_help._" Harry needed to be brought back under his control, his influence and direct indirect control.

Fawkes appeared at the very heart of the castle in a burst of flame. This room was the best place to converse with the essence or sentience of Hogwarts herself. The Phoenix dipped its head, in the equivalent of a bow until she spoke. "Rise. You should know better, than to bow to me, old friend." She chided him gently, as a sort of invisible force stroked the magnificent head, the phoenix thrilled softly at her touch.

"Fawkes, where does the Light stand?" He sang a few notes, and those musical notes contained far more information that any human could ever decipher, comprehend and understand. What Fawkes said caused Hogwarts to shake her head in dismay. "Then all is as we feared, and the Light stands idle and ignorant as darkness creeps ever closer."

That evening, Peter was staring at himself looking back at him from the front page of the Quibbler. He was now in a particularly precarious position: Most Death Eaters would sell their own families for a lot less than one hundred thousand galleons. Now that it was public knowledge that he was Animagus, he had no choice, even if he did not want to. To stay alive, and relatively safe, he would have to stay close to Lord Voldemort, even if he would rather spend another thirteen years as a rat.

They were in the stands when Isabelle walked up the stairs and plunked herself at the end of the row. She noticed that the four judges were in a stand of their own, located on the edge of a quarry gouged in to the Quidditch pitch. She could recognize the four judges and the guest of honor on behalf of the Ministry. Madame Maxine was unmistakable, as was Dumbledore sitting beside her. Durmstrang headmaster Igor Karkaroff seated on the far end, as far from the others as possible.

In London two nights before, a magically weak but politically powerful wizard paced in the British Minister of Magic office. Cornelius Fudge was quickly reaching the end of his rope. The tournament had originally been an excellent idea and an opportunity to reinforce his standing after the Quidditch World Cup. Then the "_Quibbler Situation_" with Harry Potter collided with the "_Black Situation_," and things had spun out of control. Dumbledore, the minister had concluded seemed to be losing grip on his magical menagerie.

Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic Dolores Umbridge was to replace ill and absent Barty Crouch. It was a political damage control maneuver, and nothing more. Percy Weasley would just have to deal with that. That was precisely how the Undersecretary found herself seated on the far left, and closest to the action, with Griphook, who took a great delight in giving a toothless smile to Umbridge every time she attempted to glare at the goblin.

Luna pulled Isabelle into a hug. "How's Harry?"

She laughed. "He was the one reassuring me that everything was going to be alright!" They all laughed at that, but the nerves were visible to all who knew where to look. Hermione was as pale as Malfoy but she tried to keep her composure. Luna was not her normal dreamy self as her foot vibrated like jackrabbit on steroids. Ginny had gone slightly pale, a stark contrast to Colin who was an interesting shade of green.

The Twins were still laughing and joking, promoting the various different pieces of homemade prankster merchandise, but their smiles were tight. Seated closest Isabelle, Luna felt her go rigid as the first was part herded and part hauled in to the enclosure, "Fuck me!" she gasped.

The Swedish Short-snout, was huge, at least the size of a pair of overweight rhinoceros, winged with claws and vicious fangs in place of horn. Add to that, the ability to breathe fire and it seemed like Isabelle's worst nightmare was about to come true. "Shit! The champions have to face that?"

Ginny nodded, "One each… and if Harry's luck holds…" They all knew that it meant he would get the largest, nastiest, meanest dragon in all existence. Isabelle growled frustrated. Harry already had enough on his plate, but then she remembered that Harry had been training for months for this, it gave her more confidence but she was still worried about her Harry. She and Hermione shared a look, Harry was the most important man to them both, and gripped each other's hands tightly.

Its scales were a silvery blue and it was clear that the dragon did not appreciate its predicament, following Cedric back and forth. A burst of sapphire colored flame lanced out. He dived behind cover. The top portion of his rocky outcrop was now molten slag.

Dragons fortunately cannot breathe a continuous stream of fire for more than ten or fifteen seconds - at least nesting mothers will not to conserve their strength. Over the constant roars of the dragon, they could catch only fragments of the commentary from Ludo Bagman.

"…Oooooh, narrow miss there, very narrow…" Dodging from one rocky outcrop to the next, Cedric circled around and pretty much where he wanted to be, ten feet from the clutch of eggs. Waving his wand in a complicated pattern, he transfigured a rock in to a dog and sent it out to do battle with the dragon. The Yorkshire terrier is the smallest of its breed but has no lack of courage as it charged to engage its foe that had more than a hundred times the size advantage.

Cedric dashed out, his twelve-inch wand extended before him. "_Accio_!" he whispered. The golden egg flew from within the nest and he caught it with one arm. He heard the roar, and was barely able to turn in time to see the dragon reduce his terrier to a fine ash. Cedric felt pain explode along his left arm, shoulder and the side of his face. However, fortunately he had completed the task as he managed to scramble clear of the dragon as Bagman shouted his success to the crowd. "...very good, indeed! And now the marks from the judges!"

"Miss Delacour, if you please!" The Veela stood tall, and proud before the dragon and began to do the unexpected. She began to sing, quietly at first, but slowly letting her voice drift in range and then power, as she unleashed the full force of her Veela charm. The dragon was enchanted, its head swaying from side to side as it followed her slow movement.

The men in the crowd were doing pretty much the same thing. The dragon was simply enchanted and gave an almost sleepy snort of contentment as its head drooped, coming to rest on its fore claws and began to snore. Isabelle grinned and snorted. "Do what you do best, Fleur." Isabelle muttered amused. The group around her laughed at that.

Fleur advanced, singing all the while. It absent-mindedly scratched its nose with a fore claw, and continued to snore like a tank engine. A burst of flame leapt from its nose and caught her robes. Fleur extinguished the burning edge of her robes with a burst of water. Fast asleep, she continued to sing until she had walked in and walked out of the nest, holding her egg high. The Welsh Green continued to sleep. It was the calmest the dragon had been in days.

"And here comes Mr. Krum!"

Victor stood his ground before the Chinese Fireball and it lived up to its name, unleashing multiple balls of fire in a dangerous spread that hammered shallow ash black craters three feet apart. Victor met the baleful eyes of the dragon, whipped his wand up, around, and thrust forward slightly, firing the first curse of the Tri-wizard tournament: "_Conjunctivitis!_"

"Very daring!" Bagman was yelling as the Dragon went on a blind rampage, unleashing fireballs in a rough arc at the ground directly in front of itself in an attempt to protect its eggs by sheer volume of fire. But it is tiring, and draining on a Dragon's magic, and the creature slumped and then staggered somewhat, crushing several of its own eggs that only served to renew its anger. Fortunately, it was now facing the wrong direction. Dodging flaying tail the Quidditch sensation retrieved his egg.

Gringotts knew how to look after its Champion. Where the other champions had entered wearing little more than their robes, Harry wore the dragon scale armor of the Bha-zhak Kha-dorath. The scales were paint, giving the entire set a tarnished silver look that did little to detract from its appearance. He wore a heavy cloak across his shoulders and silence descended as the stadium studied Harry as he stalked from the Champions tent and paused, critically eyeing the second nastiest dragon on the face of the planet: The Hungarian Horntail. It had taken almost a dozen dragon handlers just to maneuver the beast in to the enclosure.

Isabelle had Hermione on her right and Luna on her left, with Ginny on Luna's left. All four girls were clutching hands so tightly, the boys were sure that circulation must've been cut off in someone.

All dragons are capable of manipulating fire in some form, whether a cone of flame; or explosive flaming orbs. The horntail however, seemed capable of producing a molten stream that super heated the rocks Harry was using for cover. "Retrieve the Golden Egg," he muttered darkly as he dove and weaved his way between cover, and the creature's flaming halitosis. He had not counted on the horned and spiked covered tail that whipped round and narrowly missed and gouged a scar through the ground. Diving back behind cover for the moment, he took a breath, "_Accio_ Golden Egg!"

Unsurprisingly, that had no effect: He was too far from the egg and the dragon's innate magic was no doubt blocking his spell. However, the dragon had felt the spell targeting something in her nest. Irritated before, now she was pissed off. Twin streams of fire chased Harry the width of the quarry before the horntail let up for a moment.

"_Accio_ Firebolt! _Bombarda_ _Maxima_!" the quarry seemed to blow itself apart as the rocks disintegrated in to fist sized lumps filling the air with dust and smoke as he recast the spell and continued his demolition work. With the cloud of smoke hiding him from judges and spectators alike, he levitated the mass of rubble and banished it at the dragon's nest.

The Horntail saw the incoming rock shower and recoiled, curling its tail and draping a wing over its nest to protect its eggs from the incoming rock storm. However, it never stopped scanning for the annoying single mouthful snack. There was, however no trace of Harry and it drew a rumbling breath as it retracted its wing to check its eggs.

From inside the nest, Harry took flight, carrying the Golden Egg under one arm as he corkscrewed to the left, "Great Scott, he can fly!" yelled Bagman as the crowd shrieked and gasped. "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?" He gained altitude, putting him beyond the reach of the nesting horntail that roared in unbridled rage.

Isabelle fought herself to not go sprinting down to the arena and grabbing Harry herself. If were it not for the support of her friends, who were pretty much holding his obsidian-haired girlfriend and each other back throughout the entire trial, she would've surely bolted to her boyfriend. They cheered louder than anyone else as Harry dismounted his broom and slung in casually over one shoulder, standing before the gathered judges, "Omelet anyone?"

Ms. Umbridge could only stare in amazement at the youngest champion's accomplishment when Bagman made a surprising announcement, "…youngest champion also the fastest to complete the task! This will no doubt shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!" Whatever the marks were, Harry frankly did not care. First, to reach him was Isabelle who practically leapt onto him, and kissed him until he was nearly senseless.

His retinue was a short distance away watching with undisguised amusement as the other champions and Ludo Bagman joined the couple. "Harry, you received a total of forty four points, and have tied for first place with Victor Krum," explained Bagman, "If you'll just join the other champions for a moment…"

Harry reentered the tent, which somehow looked quite different now: friendly and welcoming. He thought back to how he had felt while dodging the Horntail, and compared it to the long wait before he had walked out to face it… There was no comparison: The task itself was nothing compared to the wait. Fleur, Cedric, and Krum all came in together. A thick orange paste covered one side of Cedric's face that was presumably mending his burn. He grinned at Harry when he saw him, "Good one, Harry."

"And you," said Harry, grinning back.

"Well done, all of you!" said Ludo Bagman, bouncing into the tent and looking as pleased as though he personally had just got past a dragon. "Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth - but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open… see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg - because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!"

Cho Chang had watched and she was now on the verge of tears. She could have had it made and instead everything had gone wrong. Harry had seen to it that she had lost her position as prefect over Loony Lovegood! She thought that the tournament was taking too much time away from her and Cedric.

They had fought and argued constantly about that and then she had forbidden him from attending Potter's dinner party because she was not invited. That had been the last straw! Luna. Everything had started going wrong because of Luna! All because she had suddenly had an all-powerful friend! Revenge, she swore quietly, would be hers. And that bitch Isabelle would get hers as well.

The residence was the site of a unique dinner that evening. The guest list was not overly long, but the first guests to arrive were the three Champions from their respective schools. Cedric Diggory arrived and Fleur Delacour followed shortly. Victor arrived slightly later and apologized for his tardiness - something to do with Headmaster Karkaroff trying to prevent him from attending.

Harry had considered the number of expected and unexpected guests and decided to leave the passage down from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, permanently. With the number of guards, and the wards, it was a practical solution as nobody else spoke Parseltongue. Though the Floo was something of a security breach, a quartet of Axe Masters stood guard, one in each corner of the small foyer.

The rest of the guests arrived shortly thereafter and the final count was three Triwizard champions, a matching number of Hogwarts professors and another half dozen students when the final two guests, made their entrance via the Floo, both landing gracefully: Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Senior Accounts Manager Griphook of Gringotts. It was an awkward first few minutes for everyone, not due to the difference is just race but also due to the differences in age.

Conversation gradually developed its own flow and rhythm, shifting and morphing back and forth between topics with no one dominating and everyone participating, as talk eventually turned to the shape of the wizarding world during dessert. Dobby had outdone himself with a rich molten chocolate cake, which had Isabelle's mouth watering; Harry and Remus had been delight to learn that she shared their obsession with chocolate. "The tournament was supposed to be about building relationships, friendships between rivals schools but it's not happening." said Harry.

Luna shrugged, "The tournament in many ways, reflects the state of the wizarding public." the comment drew a glance from Amelia Bones; "You've taken control of your public relations through the Quibbler and published the truth. The last edition and three reprints sold out in record time… we're expanding to cope with the demand."

Harry let his attention wander around the table, listening to everything but commenting on nothing for the moment, until the conversation moved to a topic of interest. "…victory, fame and honor for my school are certainly considerations but I would be more interesting in finishing this tournament with friends," said Fleur.

Victor was also nodding, "My main reason for coming to Hogwarts was to hopefully make friends but our headmaster has us virtually confined to the ship, he is obsessed with victory. I am not. I become a professional Quidditch player this summer and a bad injury could end my career before it begins." It turned out that while an international Quidditch superstar, the Bulgarian was quiet and reserved, preferring a simple life, spending his free time working for one of several different charities near the modest home he shared with his parents.

It was Cedric that brought up a principal point of concern. "But what happens when the prophet get its hands on this? The fact that the four of us are suddenly friends yet supposed to be competing against one another. You worked a deal for your protection," acknowledged Cedric with a nod towards Harry, "I'm just surprised that the Quibbler" he shot an apologetic glance towards Luna, "could afford to pay you."

Harry laughed, "I sold my rights to the Quibbler for one galleon, and Griphook," the Goblin gave a polite smile, "was kind enough to draw up the contract. So everything was legal and above board. Best deal I ever made!"

Victor was sure that somebody has hit him with a Bludger and that his hearing was suddenly deficit. "One Galleon? Exclusive rights for one Galleon?" the Bulgarian rumbled.

"I got what I wanted: Media protection. It was worth it."

"I can see the benefits Harry." the Bulgarian's eyes literally smashed their way across the room to where Luna and Penelope were still deep in discussion. "Do you think the Quibbler could offer me a similar deal, for the duration of the tournament? I have no desire to read in the Prophet that some student of Hogwarts or Beauxbaton is having my love child…"

"You could do worse than a student Victor," said Cedric with a grin, "A professor or two perhaps…" he didn't have to complete the speculation as Victor's eyes took on house elf proportions as his eye brows almost disappeared in to his hair as the professors in attendance looked equally scandalized. Isabelle outright snorted, as did Harry. They shared a look and matching grins, much to the amusement of everyone else.

"I know that you three have hardly had fair treatment at the hands of the Prophet," a remarkable understatement considering Rita Skeeter's article on the Weighing of the Wands ceremony, while devoid of his picture had failed to get the names or the other champions and their schools correct.

Victor grunted in agreement, "If you trust this, Quibbler…"

Hermione raised a hand in warning, "They are still a paper, but they publish the facts and the truth whether you do good or evil. You would get the right to reply…" That was good enough for Victor and Cedric. Fleur needed no convincing that media protection would be a good idea. Griphook produced three contracts, moments later they were enveloped in the gentle blue glow before Luna sat down to interview the three champions while Colin, who was never far from his camera, snapped a selection of pictures.

The hour grew late and all, whether student, staff or champion began to take their leave though it was not lost on anyone that the head of the DMLE was staying. Finally, alone, Harry moved things along, "Ms. Bones, thank you for agreeing to meet me in private."

She smiled, "I have to admit, I was rather surprised at your invitation. To what does this pertain?" one does not rise to one of the highest positions in magical government by being blind to the obvious. She could tell in which direction this was going and what, or more precisely, whom the conversation was going to be about, but she wanted to hear him say it, and not jump the wand, so to speak.

"My Godfather ma'am, explained Harry in all seriousness, "Mr. Sirius Orion Black."

Hermione had gone to bed but Isabelle had been adamant about staying up with him, and listened as Harry had a long, blow-by-blow account for Sirius, including his conversation with Ms. Bones that made it clear: Only a pardon from the Minister of Magic could exonerate him.

Hedwig ruffled her feathers at the sheer length of the letter, and gave a soft hoot of protest. However, Hedwig took the letter with the quiet self-assured dignity of her kind and flapped in to the night. Despite the first task, a successful dinner party, and half an hour writing the letter, the young man wandered in to the training area, activated the dummies and began to duel.

His dueling style had evolved as he stole ideas and tactics from all of his tutors, and while capable of holding his own against for an extended period, he was no closer to defeating Griphook or any of his other tutors and professors. The night wore on and the stack of destroyed dummies entered double digits when Harry set to work against two dummies at once. Finally, it was almost three in the morning when the young man hit the showers and the collapsed in to bed, his obsidian-haired girlfriend right beside him.

Igor Karkaroff was alone in his private quarters aboard the vessel, and sat frozen with the shot glass half way between the table and his lips. His hand shook for an instant but then steadied, "It takes a great deal of courage to ambush a man from behind."

"Good evening Igor," said Moody, "You're looking remarkably well." Igor dropped the glass, all color draining from his face, "I'm here to extend an invitation from our master who can't wait to renew your acquaintance." Igor felt his blood turn to ice with the thought of meeting the Dark Lord again, but the Auror who had captured him.

When had Alastor "Mad Eye" Moony ever been sympathetic to the Dark Lord! "You can be of use to our master, with access to the grounds and tournament venues and the castle itself. This is the only reason that you are still alive!" That simple statement reduced Igor to tears of terror, "Please, Alastor, I'm a dead man if I appear in front of my…our master, I can't go back."

"Return willingly and take your chances or I will send your corpse," growled the Auror as he dropped an old boot on the table.

The trembling headmaster unwillingly took it.


	13. Complications of Being A Champion

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**Complications of Being a Champion**

"_**Everyone is your best friend when you are successful. Make sure that the people that you surround yourself with are also the people that you are not afraid of failing with." –**_**Paula Abdul**

Despite the successes enjoyed by all four champions during the first task of the tournament, things had been on a slow boil within Hogwarts, and Gryffindor specifically. The Ravenclaws viewed Luna and Isabelle as traitors to their house for having taken up Harry on his offer and tried to make their lives uncomfortable whenever possible, especially in classes where Harry and others were not around.

However, Isabelle had learned many tricks and curses during her training with Harry, and had once again put Cho and her gang in their places. Though Luna wanted to beat it with the same stoicism she always had, Isabelle wouldn't stand for it, and earned herself a detention for sending Cho and her entire group to the Hospital Wing. Needless to say, word had travelled back to Harry, who was, in a word: Pissed.

Not only was Cho and her little friends messing with one of his close friends after he had expressly warned them, but now they were also messing with his girlfriend, and that was definitely crossing the line. However, Harry had been immensely proud of Isabelle for sticking up for herself and Luna, and putting those bints in the Infirmary.

Adding fuel to the metaphorical fire was Ron, who had effectively turned his back on everyone in Gryffindor to spend time with his new friends in Slytherin. Although not said aloud, gossip judged Harry guilty and Hermione guilty by association, as was Colin, the youngest of the Weasleys and the twins, for consorting with the enemies. There had been more than a few arguments, some harsh words and on several occasions drawn wands. Harry vowed silently that if things continued at this rate, it would have to go farther than that.

Hermione had been completely opposed to any retaliation, and Isabelle had been the exact opposite. She was completely ready to punish anyone that even looked at her friends the wrong way, a sentiment that Harry shared.

Meanwhile, Hermione had been asking Dobby a number of questions about House Elves. As it happened, many house elves were very happy with their lot in life and did not want things to change. Dobby it seemed, really was the weirdo in his breed, "Even Winky was able to find work at Hogwarts, miss!" said Dobby.

"Winky?" said Harry. "She's here too?"

"Yes, sir, yes!" said Dobby, "Would sir like to see Winky?"

That morning, accompanied by his girlfriend, Hermione and Neville who had the morning period free, they followed the hyperactive house elf in to the kitchens. Hermione gaped at their sheer number. At least a hundred, perhaps as many as two hundred moved around, side stepped, walked, ran and seemed to just apparate around them.

With Dobby leading the way, they passed in between four long wooden tables that Harry guessed positioned exactly beneath the four house tables in the Great Hall directly above them. Many of the house elves paused in mid task to smile, bow or curtsy. All of the elves were dressed in a similar uniform of a tea towel that bore the Hogwarts crest worn like a toga.

The sheer vastness of the kitchens was astounding, seemingly stretching on forever in to the distance until they finally stopped in front of one of the many brick fireplaces dotted around the room, "Winky! Sir!" said the house elf.

She sat on a stool by the fire, hunched over. Her skirt and blouse matched the blue hat that had holes in her for her ears. Where Dobby's mismatched ensemble was clean and pressed like those of the other house elves, Winky's clothes were torn, stained and in general, disarray, "Hello, Winky," said Harry.

The elf's lips quivered and then she erupted in to tears that splashed down her front. The two teens who had been at the Quidditch world cup remembered the tears that the unfortunate elf had shed. "Oh…dear," said Hermione, "Winky, don't cry, please don't…" Her words only had the opposite effect as she cried harder than ever.

"Would Harry Potter like a cup of tea?" asked Dobby

"Err… coffee would be better." said Harry, all of them having developed a sort of addiction to the liquid. Instantly, about six house-elves came trotting up behind him, bearing a large silver tray laden with a coffee pot, cups for Harry, Isabelle, Hermione, and Neville, a milk jug, and a large plate of biscuits.

Neville took a cup of coffee, "Thank you," he said quietly. The elves all looked delighted, bowed low, their ears almost sweeping the ground as they retreated.

"How long has she been here Dobby?" asked Harry.

"Only a week. Harry Potter, sir!" said Dobby happily. Winky curled and balanced on her stool as the volume of her crying increased, "Dobby goes to visit Winky, and finds out Winky has been freed too, sir!" said Dobby his ears bent unnaturally low as she threw herself off the stool and lay face-down on the flagstones of the kitchen floor, and screamed in misery.

Hermione hastily dropped down to her knees beside her and tried to comfort her, but nothing she said made the slightest difference. Dobby continued with his story, shouting shrilly over Winky's screeches that had raised an octave, "And Dobby manages to find Winky work at Hogwarts sir! But because we are free elves, we must be paid…"

Winky suddenly stopped in mid screech and glared at Dobby with her massive brown eyes, her face sopping wet and suddenly furious, "Winky is a disgraced elf, but Winky is not yet getting paid!" she squeaked. "Winky is not sunk so low as that! Winky is properly ashamed of being freed! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, miss! Mr. Crouch is right to sack bad Winky!"

"Winky is having trouble adjusting, Harry Potter," squeaked Dobby confidentially, "She is not taking her pay, and Winky forgets she is not bound to Mr. Crouch anymore; she is allowed to speak her mind now, but she won't do it."

"Can't house-elves speak their minds about their masters, then?" Harry asked.

"Oh no, sir, no," said Dobby, looking suddenly serious. "'Tis part of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. We keep their secrets and our silence, sir. We uphold the family's honor, and we never speaks ill of them."

Harry glanced at the still, silent house elf, and made a decision, "Winky," said Harry, "Would you like to work for me?" Suddenly, the hustle and bustle of the kitchen stopped. You could have heard a pin drop in the silence as every house elf stared at Harry in disbelief. Hermione was equally shocked, "You work for me, you work like any normal house elf," said Harry, "But, you will get days off like Dobby, because you were a…a bad house elf." Winky had dried her eyes, and was not exactly sure what to make of the offer.

"Would Winky have to wear clothes?"

"Winky would have to wear a uniform, _not_ clothes," said Harry, "You can make your own uniform but it must be a nice uniform that you take care of."

Winky rose to her feet and for the first time, met the young man's gaze, "You, would take Winky as servant? If Winky wear uniform and has… days off?" she sounded hopeful, "Like Dobby, sir? Two... days each month?"

"Yes," Harry said firmly, "But what you do on your one day off…" he did not complete the sentence, hoping that the house elf would catch on. She did. Standing up, she stood at her full height and snapped her fingers.

Instantly her Hogwarts uniform was mended, clean and pressed. She stood ramrod straight before Harry, and snapped her fingers again, removing the Hogwarts crest from her blouse, which she handed to one of the other house elves, and bowed low to him, "Winky is happy to be in the service of Harry Potter! Sir!"

It was as if somebody had turned the background back on as the kitchen resumed operation, "Dobby, please show Winky to the Residence and explain her tasks, duties and responsibilities to her." He glanced at his watch, "We'd better go… we're all going to be late for class!"

As they prepared to take their leave, many of the surrounding elves pressed in upon them, offering snacks, whispering "thank you" or just large, almost embarrassed smiles and many low bows. Hermione had a slightly pained expression on her face, but Isabelle looked bemused.

"You know what?" said Neville, "All these years I've been really impressed with Fred and George, nicking food from the kitchens. The elves just can't wait to give it all away…"

Hermione however rounded on Harry like a tornado let out of a box, "Harry! How could you!" she was shocked, and hurt that he would do such a thing, especially since he knew how she felt about house elves. Isabelle stepped up in front of Harry out of habit, and he let her. Isabelle took both of Hermione's hands and looked the girl in the eyes seriously.

"Hermione, what would you have had Harry do?" Isabelle asked rhetorically. "He couldn't leave her like that! Freedom might suit Dobby, but it was killing her." Isabelle softened. "Hermione... she's happy now, and," She smirked, as did Harry, "he said Winky works for him, does what any house elf does, but he didn't bond her to him. She can leave if she asks."

Harry gave Isabelle a solid kiss for that.

"Harry, there's a Slytherin in you somewhere," remarked Neville as he made his way towards the greenhouses, giving the couple a few minutes alone. If only Neville knew the truth about Harry and what the Sorting Hat had said to him just two years ago when he was the alleged heir of Slytherin. He had only ever explained that to one person, and she was currently holding his hand.

Hermione had to agree that Harry had found an excellent loophole, and she realized that Winky was but a small demonstration of just how much of a cunning Slytherin lurked beneath the skin of the Gryffindor lion. "Just remember Isa, we're meeting Professor McGonagall between classes," he gave her a slightly roguish wink, "and if we don't spend the whole break in her office…"

She blushed, gave him a peck on the cheek and they watched as Hermione ran after Neville. Yes, there were definitely better things to do during a break between classes. Professor Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor, Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School and Witchcraft and Wizardry in her office on the first floor of the Defense against the Dark Arts tower, had just revived the flagging fireplace when there was a knock at her door.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Cantrine," she greeted them politely, "What can I do for you?" she gestured for them to have a seat, conjuring coffee and a platter of biscuits, it seemed even the Professors had noticed their love of coffee.

Both took a cup of coffee, Isabelle with lots of sugar, Harry without, and took a sip, buying a moment to review his arguments. Minerva glanced at the platter of biscuits, wondering why the students never, ever took one. "I was wondering if I could arrange for my retinue to join me in my residence, for the duration of the tournament," he handed over a copy of the rules, courtesy of Griphook, "per the highlighted section."

She read in silence, tomb like silence for several minutes, rereading the passage several times, "Mr. Potter, you are perfectly within your rights as champion to simply move your retinue without consulting a member of the faculty," she tapped a further subsection that Harry had not highlighted.

He nodded, "I may be an emancipated minor, but I don't have full emancipation. I would rather get permission than ask for forgiveness later. My choices affect more than just me. I do not intend to make choices for my friends."

Professor McGonagall raked the teens with her trademark stern glance. "I do realize that there are a number of problems, between you and the headmaster. I presume that is why you came to me?"

"Partly," admitted Harry, "I want permission for my friends to move in to my residence, whether it's on a more permanent arrangement while they attend their regular classes, or just to spend the night on weekends. There was a small measure of acidity in his voice, "I want the permission to allow my friends, and tutors to chose. I will be making a similar request to Professor Flitwick about getting Luna out of the Ravenclaw for the duration of the tournament." What to do next year was a question for another time.

She studied the boy seated before her and realized that he was not so much a boy any more, nor had he ever been much of one. She had subscriptions to both the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet and knew the full account, as told by both sides. What surprised her was that both accounts contained a great deal of truth, the former due to an agreement.

The latter made Harry out as a manipulator capable of disguising, shading and misdirecting, which she had to admit was the truth as he was doing it right now, to her, to avoid confrontation in search of a compromise. "Headmaster Dumbledore is unlikely to approve of eight teenagers living together, without adult supervision."

Harry shook his head, "Mr. Lupin will be there, one of several different instructors that I have teaching me at the moment. And you've met Griphook." Indeed, she had, for the Goblin had been on his best behavior the night before and somewhat charming in his own way, "He tends to be around most evenings, and Professor Flitwick is one of my instructors who drops by at all hours… he might have actually spent the night once. As one of my tutors, the same courtesy is extended to you: Visit when you please and by all means stay the night if you choose."

"Very well Mr. Potter," it was clear that Harry was receiving a fairly well rounded education that include negotiating and haggling from those who do such things for a living, "I trust you will handle the headmaster in your own fashion. I agree but I have certain conditions: I reserve the right to visit without giving prior notice," she didn't have to say why, but this was an acceptable, "Secondly, I would like to attend your training, to ensure that you will be able to pass your OWL examinations." Expected and reasonable, "Thirdly," she said in a slight rush, "the recipe for last night's dessert."

The two teens smiled and Isabelle reached in to her pocket, "I can help you with the last request…" opening the parchment, the professor was delighted to find the recipe for Dobby's Molten Chocolate Cake. With a wave of his wand, Harry vanished the cookies and replaced the platter with a small box from his pocket, "_Engorgio_!"

He lifted the top and the smell of warm chocolate drifted out and enveloped the room in a fragrant haze, "Your terms, are entirely reasonable, and acceptable," said Harry as another wave of his wand transfigured a small teaspoon in to a passable knife, and presented it handle first to the transfiguration professor, "Would you care to do the honors?"

A similar meeting with Professor Flitwick during the lunch break after Care for Magical Creatures went as well, "Mr. Potter, as I promised you, I have also looked in to another matter." The temperature dropped a fraction of a degree, "And it is to my everlasting shame to discover that I had severely let down one of my own."

It had not taken long for Flitwick to put the pieces together: Luna, alone in a corner of the Library, eating by herself, spending time wandering the corridors of the castle aimlessly, alone on Hogsmeade weekend trips the year before. Quiet, unobtrusive, seemingly happy and cheerful but ultimately alone, was the professor's final assessment of Luna. Small wonder that she'd leapt without looking at the opportunity to escape an environment where she was the target of incessant bullying "just because she was "Loony Lovegood."

He had originally wondered how it was that the pair of Gryffindors had so easily welcomed and accepted the pureblood in to their ranks but then again, the half blood champion and muggleborn witch who stood beside him had been shunned, reviled and hated on numerous occasions for reasons that ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous. Luna was taking Ron's place, or perhaps Neville was taking Ron's place. Perhaps there would soon be no Golden Trio, but something better in its place.

"I have spoken to Miss Lovegood and, apologized to her for as her head of house, I failed her." The frank and honest admission of guilt surprised Harry and he found himself uncharitably wondering whether Dumbledore could admit he was fallible. "Those responsible have been dealt with." Flitwick's punishments had done incredible damage to his own house: The Ravenclaw Quidditch team was short a Seeker, Chaser and Keeper, a new prefect needed to be appointed, and the points lost made it unlikely that Ravenclaw would place above third for the House Cup next year. That's not even counting what Isabelle herself had done to them and several pranks from the three Prank Generals, along with some spells and hexes thrown in by Harry, and surprisingly, Neville.

In Dolores's opinion the first task had proceeded splendidly well and as she rose and made her way to the small lectern during dinner she had a confident smile. "Ahem-hem, could I have your attention please?" conversation in the great hall stopped, as many of the student wondered who the ugly toad was, "I am Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Dolores Jane Umbridge." Her voice was crunchy on the outside yet somehow chewy on the inside, rather like the chocolate frosted sugar bombs breakfast cereal that Dudley devoured by the crate thought Harry.

It was just as well that the squat, mousy brown haired woman did not have eyes in the back of her head. Professor McGonagall's stare would have petrified a Basilisk. Even the Seventh Years could recall ever seeing her so angry. The professor did have her reasons: Delores had just appeared in the great hall, joined them for dinner without an invitation, and then interrupted the meal to address the students without even asking the headmaster for permission. "Tomorrow there will be a photo session for the champions with the British Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and interviews so that the public can get to know the champions."

Harry was trying his hardest not to laugh aloud at the mention of a "photo session," but a glance across the great hall saw him catch the eye of first Cedric then Fleur and finally Victor, all of whom wore expressions of surprise with varying degrees of amusement. There was a chortle of polite laughter as Harry struggled to contain himself. Dolores was understandably shocked at the interruption, by a student no less but retained her composure when she saw Harry Potter laughing as politely as possible, "Is there a problem Mr. Potter?"

"I am afraid there is. I have signed an exclusivity contract with the Quibbler, and cannot appear in any other publication till after the tournament is over." Harry gave her a moment to acknowledge that fact with a nod and then dropped the hammer, "As have my fellow champions from Beauxbaton, Hogwarts and Durmstrang."

She gritted her teeth, and forced her voice back to its breakfast cereal demeanor, "Regardless, the Ministry will be sponsoring the Yule Ball, on Christmas day, in honor of the four champions." Dolores could not see any way she could lose with this particular proposition.

Viktor stood, "I protest to this. It is an intrusion upon my time!" he was almost growling out the words, but even with his accent, it was clear he was not pleased with this particular turn of events.

All pretenses of politeness and civility left Dolores, "You!" she spat, "signed a magically binding contract and you will do as you are told!"

Victor had faced down bloodthirsty reporters, over eager fan girls – and a few fan boys - bludgers, beater bats, two death threats, cut throat team managers and worse. Delores Umbridge simply did not register on his threat assessment, "It is beyond a doubt that I signed a magical contract to compete in the Tri-wizard tournament, but there was no mention of a Yule Ball or any Ball in the rules! As it is not in the rules, then it is for the champions to agree to attend! Not their schools! Nor Professors! And certainly not government officials who have nothing to do with the management or operation of the Tournament!" it was perhaps the longest speech that anyone had heard from the Quidditch star.

Dumbledore, Harry correctly assumed could not resist attempting to be the grandfatherly mediator but he handled the situation deftly, "While Hogwarts is definitely able to host the Yule Ball, it would be a shame for the event to be short a Champion," he said amicably. "However, you would be within your rights to refuse to attend the Yule Ball, but in the spirit of international cooperation, to build friendships you can understand why we hope you would attend this event?"

Victor glared at Umbridge, "Given that you are issuing an invitation to attend, Headmaster Dumbledore, I would be honored to accept, and attend the Yule Ball at Hogwarts School on Christmas Day." He sat down and the girls around him were all incredibly a flutter: It was just possible that they could snare a Champion and Quidditch superstar as their date!

Minerva realized that whatever his faults were, the headmaster was still on the job. However, she was much less worried about Harry and his circle of friends and other champions. It was clear that all four of them had the measure of Ms. Delores Umbridge.

Dolores Umbridge would not forget this, or any of them, especially Harry Potter. He would pay for this, and so would Dumbledore she swore to herself. If she could have made a blood oath in that moment, she probably would have.


End file.
